ekleksographia

Unseen across gardens of indeterminate breath
a Dona lilts
her soaring wander of demise. She furrows
a night valley of love
lost in the singed foothills of afternoon.
Heat and an array of possible attempts
to give us voice
prevail. She airs her Don,
jambs unscrewed.
She divas him,
undivided behind narratives
without accompaniment
or rainfall
and offered singularly to all
on charred lawns.

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Cimetière Montparnasse (Fin de Partie)

Among the plane and linden
limbercresting bare,
lame slabs the length and breadth of
alleys off the main road
give up the monumental goods.

April sun again
and no prints of feet left
in dust or snow.

From earth, a sanctum
Haussmann-edged
with green watercan and bench.

The dig is mapped
for view but
not what leans within.

I wander lust
heel to gravel
a tremulous crunch
to white flowers potted
and the yellow dying,
where folded papers tucked
relay penciled notes from the show.