A Light for Leonard Cohen
I believe that I heard my father sing,
when I was seventeen
or so, some lines from ‘Master Song’.
Severe, the sovereignty
of his office board room. Today, I assume,
we die, tomorrow love one another;
Auden’s ‘affirming flame’
in part the agony of and or or.
A sunbird, plumage bound in smoke,
blinds itself for its night journey.
A poem unread will regardless make
good on its premise. One word, churning.
You: I would love to see those matches flare.
The poem: Thanks for the song, Eliezer.