When it Comes
Posted by Cassandra on August 12, 2000 at 00:13:28:
When it Comes
Yourself: infinities wiser than right this now.
It is tomorrow, or some other time ahead,
and the dread, unfeeling face in the mirror
is no longer yours, the sober chin,
having done with its brooding, now
done with itself. In such a state of defiance,
you will no longer claim it, and today
is the last of all your days.
On the last of all days, you will see
an unknown eternity in the ligature
of the Madonna lily's new-bloomed buds.
They float tight and high above their stems,
proud things growing out of wicked soil,
these dear, dear blossoms of regret. You will see also
the sunlight's most peculiar aberrations--airglow,
faint luminosity, the cloudy inclinations of forever to come.
Oh insomniac, death arrives like sleep,
the alpine blue of an icy, unfamiliar gaze in your direction,
peace at long very last.