Free of this sinister envy
In the subfusc forest, shadows dance,
Twirl about as once she did on those
Slippered feet until they were shreds,
Ribbons and toes alike.
What did she care hearing the
Shawms play contrapuntal harmony?
Another song keens forth now,
Not so jocund as the gold day
Echoed in the clear blue bowl of sky,
Muted by the arch of Palladian elm, oak,
And the wild eglantine. A sea mist
Before her obscures the field of asphodel
She climbs,
Panting, not so lissome as once was
Upon that time,
Circling the tarn on the mountaintop,
Gazing into serene pools,
Worn, wrinkled, but sure-footed still
She grins. The simple relief. The daws
Croak, cackle in wicked companionship,
The day goes down,
Now at last,
In the obscurity of starlight,
She can tap, sing, live, croon, wreathing reveries
Into a soul less sinister
Than that painted sheet they
Adorned with pearls and called a person.
Gyroscope Review 1! 7