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Oh, Do Not Give Me Sunrise





Oh, do not give me sunrise
and day beguiled
with ripening smiles, delivered safe
dawning of dismissal
from a brighter sphere
shrunk to oblivion
in the womb of night
the sea's bloodbath gilded with promise

And do not give me sunrise
on teasing cusp
of an epiphany that cannot wax
amidst a galaxy
of solipsist worlds
whose ebbing heartbeats
crave unpolluted air
and epic rest and consummation

Oh, do not give me sunrise
of things that might and mustn't come to grief
tales of fair Avalon
unreached, and longings
withered to a fault
for want of nurture
in furrowed field at season's sowing

Pray, do not give me sunrise
with ravelled skeins
of untold histories and mysteries
designs untapestried
to be single-stitched
by fumbling fingers
in taut laboured hours
eyeless in Gaza and as a slave

But rather grant me sundown's laurels
blood fire-consumed!
an Indian Summer of the senses
spent flesh telling, spirit
hailing the far shore
shuffling loose the coil
while mystic music
in surround sound shuns costly cadence



The Twain, Poems of Earth and Ether

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