Cricket’s Music (Or So She Liked To Be Thought Of Making)

Emily Dickinson – your sweet bee
Stings me beyond Athens –
Past some tiny God
Of Words –
Bounty of your syllables
Betrayed themselves’ finiteness –
Pollinate the Rose –
Its petals like feathers from souls
Dropped by butterflies
Into nature’s river
Wetting horizon’s long, slow amethyst sea –
Makes us whole
While a bobolink’s song at sunset
Just before we feel darkness settle
But see it as Death –
Presages drowning Bliss –
We stand on sand at shore
Mesmerized by your trickster poetry –
Rhymes us into staying put
Time enough to notice
Above insouciant waves
And seductive undertow
There isn’t time other than stars –
Carbon asterisks all of us –
Beloved—my eternal Dust already knew –
And to reveal took you.