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@ 27.055 MHz: Ad Astra; Brief Glimpse Of Wladzio Walking In Philebus' Poem To Thomas Mann
I know the passions you have felt, mein Herr:
as only those who love like us can share;
Love like this is exquisite, full of joy
bestirred by Wladzio---that gorgeous boy.
Your hopeful "sooners" and frustrated "laters"
were like so many sharpened scalpels put
to your desire. The calendar and clocks
were more obstructive than the local haters;
and your frustration caused hot, but chaste, tears.
Now Wladzio is older by two years,
and has outgrown the childish sailor suits.
He hates the stiff confines of shoes or boots.
Clad in an untucked, unbuttoned white shirt
and baggy trousers, he likes to walk near
the tide's last reach; he strolls there, not barefoot;
but with his feet ensheathed in sheer gray socks---
dampened as breezes kiss his long, soft hair.
ENVOI:
Beyond the worldlings' hollowing evanescence,
the moment of this Poiesis will survive
in the hallowing of that place called Coerulescence---
there, nurtured and appreciated, to thrive.
Starward
[*/+/^]
