HANGING UP THE WASHING - NEW POEM, NEW COLLECTION

 

                                                                                    

 

Hanging Up the Washing

 

 

Et les grands ciels qui font rêver d’éternité.

And the great skies which make us think of eternity.

Baudelaire, your great sonic architecture

Conjures up such skyward magnificence,

 

So that every time I am hanging up the clothes,

On the clothesline, I look to the empire of the sky!

All done up in cerulean- blue, and sometimes rose water,

Painted with a magnificent stroke of sublime abandonment,

 

In the summer, and I am reminded of your Paysage.

And I am taken out of the quotidian,

Arrested by your slow, burning ambition,

 

To intoxicate me with the language of flowers,

Their great- pointed crown of thorns,

That Press into my forehead, fit for a King.