Aug 27, 2007 23:06
Untitled
Leda: introduction
i.
This is how she, below sky below you, parades on each
heat-crippled field swallowed not in shadow, but in sun:
a swan, whose wings ascend, descend, come away in
ledaean white, as when, in light and in not-light, she is
dancing, feet brush/ fail, brush/ fail hot asphalt-this
is how it goes, her motion, not rushed not hurried.
Zeus: watching
ii.
Feather-rustler. Wind-rippler. Swan-transform-
er. You taste her from above.
You have no lips.
Leda and the Swan: yearning
iii.
Here, on a field splotched by your wing-shadows, she's in un-moving.
A sound-
can it be: wings unbroken, soft, in the air?
In equal parts result as impulse she looks up at- is astounded.
(-at you in swan-form, all-white descending
from sky and from them, from all things
expected,
half-expected.
Part of your point to find, to damp on someone else your hunger