Lifting whither

Lifting whither, cycle of the sift
annuls the future, zero that you zoom
beautiful suitor of the lucent room
evacuating auras, stratal shift

leaping in its alabaster rift.
Lend the daylight crescent, circle, spume,
ether from your eye, appalled perfume,
ash incense to boundary when you drift

bluely looming—motion will be mute
season spooling its argent errant thread
endless loop and lavish as the dead

note resounding a transparent flute.
Tell the boys we're leaving—wind as red
event left at the altar—the bride is fled.

Copyright © 2008 Karen Volkman All rights reserved
from Nomina
BOA Editions, LTD
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission