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In Vermilion Accolades
If the night is freckled with ixora, then I will make a wish,
While the children are like kites waiting in their doorsteps of sky
For their fathers who come flying in,
Hoofed and in chariots of airplanes; and I have been down so long:
I have cut my fingers to feed the minnows in the canal,
While their homeopathic silver ness has gone on to feed even
Bigger things:
And it is nice to lie here in the fat oxygen in a house painted with the
Soft colors of a seashell
And do things for Alma, even while new souls are getting ready to
Graduate again from high school-
To get up and stretch their legs and go a little further down their
Ways,
While the emerald waters rush in vermilion accolades.
poem
by
Bret R. Crabrooke
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