The sudden ear, electric and astonished:
somber, I am told, rhymes with you, hombre.
I think of a shadow, l’ombre. The shadow
that rules my life. All unmarried
bachelors run merrily from their wives.
Quel dommage! I lost my summer millionaire
by December’s dark gray road. My sudden ear
green and bent. Hombre, words lift: where’s
the money that I spent? And always here.
Just be, here: words riot the summers up
the air. A million bees now gone, honeybear.
Thank you, master hombre. Penumbrae scatter
into the mouth of the breath of the clutched heart
of the Christ breathing out the world. Bless you, skeptic.
Thank you, O voice, notes, over the sound of these heavy keys.
Raphael Maurice is a poet, translator, and teacher. He resides in Washington, MO where the river keeps its secrets.