What Garlands The Mountain Door? Poem by Mark Heathcote
What Garlands The Mountain Door?
What garlands the mountain door?
Making shadows of nothing at all
Turning heads of static seed to flower
As if it were a star eclipsing each hour
A spendthrift moment's passing gloom.
What levees a soul winter store
To make it Gala apple sweet
Or bitter as a crabapple sour
What or who holds at its rotting core
Keys that make it holy rich and godly poor.
12.04.97
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4/29/2024 10:05:48 AM # 1.0.0.1119
