Trapped in antique mores, now the sun
Abandoned the International Pavilions
To miracles of manmade light. The trees
In their pots were underlit, revealing pasty
Backsides of their embarrassed leaves. We barked
The shins of our puppylove against the crowds
That swirled around us, swirled like fallen leaves
In the wind's vortex toward the Pool of Fountains:
Mauve and yellowing geysers surged and fell
As
national anthems tolled, amity-wise,
From the State of Florida's Spanish Carillon.
What portent, in that luminous night, to share
Undyingly, discovery of each other!
Helen, Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those immutable emblems, huge and pure,–
One glimmering globe the world's will unifying,
Beside spired hope that ravels the deep skies,
Our time's unnumbered benefits descrying
In their own light's shimmer though the new dalWll comes
With lightning, lightening in a murmur of summer thunder.
Daniel G. Hoffman
METAPHORS FOR A PREGNANT WOMAN
I'm a riddle in nine syllables,
An
elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
o
red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.
Sylvia Plath
