N
Nataloodle
Guest
...Carol Rumens? Their children are at the loom of another world
their brais are oiled and black, their dresses bright
their assorte heights would make a melodious chime.
they watch their flickering knots like television
as the garden of islam grows, the bench will be raised
then they will lace the dark-rose veins of the tree-tops
the carpet will travel in the merchant's truck
it will be spread by the servants of the mosque
deep and soft, it will give when heaped with prayer
the children are hard at work in the school of days
from their fingeres the colors of all-that-will-be fly
and freeze into the frame of all-that-was
their brais are oiled and black, their dresses bright
their assorte heights would make a melodious chime.
they watch their flickering knots like television
as the garden of islam grows, the bench will be raised
then they will lace the dark-rose veins of the tree-tops
the carpet will travel in the merchant's truck
it will be spread by the servants of the mosque
deep and soft, it will give when heaped with prayer
the children are hard at work in the school of days
from their fingeres the colors of all-that-will-be fly
and freeze into the frame of all-that-was