Old Chair Isis

The island's lip in river sips,
Sunlight dances regal, hair twirling bright
In our blood, soft warming red wine.

These my round beams are pillows pleased,
Proud and staid, all longing pales, gilt-woven shroud
Animal ease, blissful moment

Give no groan or creak abandoned:
Gallant solitude, stillness dignified,
Let seasons and all comers pass.

Weather denudes, peels and feathers.
Sway-backed chair, melancholy emblem cracked,
Fading and stoic in autumn dusk.

Giddy spring heat is sorely missed,
Curling memories flutter, a late breeze.
Whispers are careful of mourning.

~1993