The Innisfree Poetry Journal

by Miles David Moore


for Hilary Tham
It was dusk at St. Mary's; the last of the light
whispered down lawns that sloped to the inlet.
You were parking your van with the Chinese horses
rampant where you painted them on the hood
when, square on the grass in front of us,
a peacock fanned in full his courtship feathers
of lime, teal, coral, lapis lazuli.
I joked I didn't realize your van
resembled a peahen so lusciously.
But this is what I've always wished for you:
the unexpected blessings of jeweled nature,
pure scenes of grace that take the form of flowers
bowing before you, or the dance of birds
in tribute to one who makes things beautiful.

Copyright 2006-7 by Cook Communication