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jim-kleinhenzPoems
If Polyhymnia could be a winter afternoon’s great beauty, or night, as it fills the moon’s girth with still translucence restored from earth… If Polyhymnia could be like the sleigh we got for last year’s Christmas day, not so hot for winter’s snow, but good once spring’s trapeze and high wire act started up… If Polyhymnia could be a spider moved up from creation’s mold to sewing skirts for dandelions… Polyhymnia, who likes shedding gowns for scales, who never sings, who never clowns, who never tempts the winter’s night with a serenade— Polyhymnia, disinterested, disinterred, delayed. © Jim Kleinhenz
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Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 8:35 PM UTC
Polyhymnia Disinterred
If Polyhymnia could be a winter afternoon’s great beauty, or night, as it fills the moon’s girth with still translucence restored from earth… If Polyhymnia could be like the sleigh we got for last year’s Christmas day, not so hot for winter’s snow, but good once spring’s trapeze and high wire act started up… If Polyhymnia could be a spider moved up from creation’s mold to sewing skirts for dandelions… Polyhymnia, who likes shedding gowns for scales, who never sings, who never clowns, who never tempts the winter’s night with a serenade— Polyhymnia, disinterested, disinterred, delayed. © Jim Kleinhenz
Written by
jim-kleinhenz
American
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 8:35 PM UTC
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