The Boy of Ashmore House

 

Gloaming:

the young man hears

the peacock in the manor garden

 

he is out to breathe on the night of his twenty-first

birthday

 

new to me, I see him naked

 

of it all and irresponsible

 

this enormous party,

yurts among the pines and fragrances

for guests, he oversees,

 

blooms carnatia in the gloaming

with us in black wreathed round him

 

hearing the preening of the feathers                                  

the barrel-chested siren

 

 

 

 

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