My Newest Muse: H.D.

This poem stylistically and thematically invokes H.D., one of my new favorite poets. Enjoy.
(for more about H.D.: http://www.imagists.org/hd/)



"Waiting"

Hang us, heavy,
among the leaves--
drying, turning, burning.
We ascend--
flamed brighter
than the orchard's
dressings.

Cold wind,
smite us! We wait,
heavy, for the ax to fall--
for the burning--
and the woodsmoke
which clots
our eyes.

Dark night,
find us! Nude but
barren--
in the first garden,
or the first
gleaming, rainy,
golden street.

Dark birds,
encircling--
We have died!
We have died!
in waiting for
a snow--
to rinse us, cleansing.