Charged against me,
The body electric like a long-lost, Californian song.
He was a spider passing through
My populous city now cob-webbed.
An open road,
Horse, my master.
A wound-dresser who clung to cleavage,
Pioneer of rolling earth.
Battle-wrecked after twenty years of absence,
I sang through days with absinthe.
Memory eroding the naked and the wan
As if forgotten centuries.
My final days singed with the fire
As the last lilacs bloomed.
MARINA GIPPS
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/revisit/
