Summer’s Approach

Tangerine             bright  
          
             muted  

In white 

heat                of summer  

Moon-thirst                drinking  

                      bloody sky  

Grown white            pale 

             You wonder  

Why does the                caracoling wind  

            look back      at the faces  

Of the weeping?  

              There’s honey       in the ledger  

Where the names of prophets           should be  

                       They’re all naked  

On the corner                    of Fifth and Main  

                       drinking honey wine  

And debating Chaucer’s motives      in the moonlight  

The tiger                        abuses  

           its shadow                                  and we learn  

                                  to exorcise  

                     the demon 

From the rose 

            for there’s no telling who              or what  

Will answer the call of                 the beast  

            The hero           sings                  in the  

Wasted night                        Shepherd him  

                        toward                     the darkness  

That we might sing together