Tuesday, June 25, 2013

When he became a Barkis...

'i am willing...'
she had said
not said
probably prayed...
to her
goddess...
Demetria...
Demeter kind...
whom she perhaps did find
in the scent of cool breeze
of the morn...
a breeze soft...
a breeze full of flowers...
a breeze generous enough
to drop
her after carrying
her caged self
from the deep sea green
to somewhere
near to him...

perhaps...

he heard that too
and thought of Barkis...
'Barkis is willing ...'
Dickens wrote that several
in one of His books...

and he became a Barkis...
and taking in the flowery scent
of her
coming to him
from farthest of the far...
he looked up
To his California sky...

'io sono
disposto
ad
affondare...'
he prayed...
awakened...
feeling
the scent all over him...
his nose...
his lungs...
his heart...

and
he became a Barkis...
Barkis...
the same...
and he thought
she might have become version two
of Clara...

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