Prospero

He is old in the world of magic.
The stillness in his face moves forces
tethered in the light like pale horses.

His spine is cold and narrow
with edges made of green light,
the tapered sorrow of the willow.

The air around him is his music
folding, shifting its blue shoulders
as he revises noise away.

The wildness is under him,
not quite of him anymore, but useful:
a tool or a provisional limb.

He is indolent and simple
as the pointed lizard feeling
for the rock’s slow, glowing ripple.

And he is lonely, the loneliness is
a darkening, a black boot to know
this density, this last stony light.

Patricia Nelson is a former attorney who has worked with the “Activist” group of poets in the San Francisco Bay Area. This is a Neo-Modernist group. Her most recent book, Out of the Underworld, is just out from Poetic Matrix Press.

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