Jason Bentsman
A Night of Sulphur
A night of sulphur
in the garden
with winding trees
ex’quisite breeze
but sulphur ling’ring
in the air
and in the blue heather
I heard
a girls voice
clear as the moon
follow me down
she sang, she cried
follow me down
down
down
to the riverside
so I left my bench
and jumped the trail
which
hov’ring on
that perfect
voice
made its way
to southern shores
the voice called on
away, anon
follow me down
it sang, it cried
follow me down
down
down
down to the riverside
and at that river
silent shore
all voices converge
in quiet waves
had it been I
who’d dreamt
that voice,
the last
of fading
childhood
days?
Page(s) 151
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