The Pilgrimage: Part 19 / Phillip Neal Tippin
The monarch light
Might come of a morning brightly
Or drift ‘tween leavèd eaves on
Its solitary wings après midi.
Mere word stretches.
Naked lyrics are
Blatantly un-rapped,
Unbacked by dropkicks.
Felt autumn after
The summer melt
Left gold in the folds
Of the Collegiate Peaks.
Avert your eyes,
It’s important what you don’t see,
If you think by seeing you know.
It has grown to this, so
Let me be diligent to work
To ripen day to be picked
In evening and eaten
With thanksgiving together.
Mound upon mound,
Word upon word,
Left after digging.
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