Beauty
When I step into the luminous lake
To the wilderness of reflection,
Step out, then deeper and deeper in
To the enormous eye set in a clock,
Am I its wayward daffodil to arrange?
Aged skin its sticky plaster to remove?
And the path winds like California
To the slab of metal where I am made;
Ringlet once more dangling off a gilt frame
And then, again, the slow build to dust.
©jacqui corcoran
To the wilderness of reflection,
Step out, then deeper and deeper in
To the enormous eye set in a clock,
Am I its wayward daffodil to arrange?
Aged skin its sticky plaster to remove?
And the path winds like California
To the slab of metal where I am made;
Ringlet once more dangling off a gilt frame
And then, again, the slow build to dust.
©jacqui corcoran
