The Gorgeous Dead – Jacob T. Reilly


               The Gorgeous Dead
A Poem for My Brother Peter

When the air cuts you quick like Orion’s sword,
Flickering, gleaming, brightly brandished stars,
Hunt  the rimed heavens for Venus then Mars,
Bodies that blaze in teeming crystal hordes
Of Boreas, for if you stay awake
And vigilant for long enough at night,
The mortified blades, like little darkling sprites,
That vernally greened the ground in the fern-brake
Will spread a carpet for your shodden feet —
A crystal carpet, diamond threaded rug!–
And all you need to do is flash your light
To see the dormant dead, that grassy shag,
Crusted in beauty’s shroud, the greatest feat:
To find the dark and dead with gems replete.


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