Morgan Michaels


Enna


City where the hills recede
land at the horizons' end
what saint or poet did you breed
oh Enna.

Lo, the smiling vales descend
from the bird-enamored walls
that band so many graces in
oh Enna.

Fair and faintly green your hills
fall away, behind them rise
others fairer, fainter still
oh Enna.

O'er the chime-enchanted stair
a doughty brace of butterflies
agitates the drowsy air
oh Enna.

On your steepy mountainsides
light her foot and dry her tear
the new Persephone arrives
oh Enna.

And when the golden sun goes down
from hill to vale to hill ring round
the bells that call your faithful home
oh Enna.

Then the clouds fill up the vales
and cool the throat and moisten well
the sere recesses of the soul
oh Enna.

City where the hills recede
land at the horizons' end
what saint or poet did you breed
oh Enna?

Submitted: Monday, February 13, 2012
Edited: Thursday, May 16, 2013

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