And Kansas She Says Is the Name of the Star

                    There's nothing GREEN out here
             was her initial reaction to the bonafide
             In Cold Blood territory beaten by the weather
             into which she got dropped at the age of eleven
             and that firstblush opinion was never to change

                    Her window there looked north-
             westward over spaces cracked inanely wideopen
             under lusterless leveledoff skies of thin gaunt taupe
             and swept ever flatter by the screendoorbanging winds
             but she found that flattery would get her nowhere

                    When gazing nightly out
             this window in its accustomed frame of Why O Why
             her feelings tinged a hueful blue with daring seadreams
             bringing salty artificial glitter to her eyes
             while looking through the glass for a wishupon star

                    She runs along away
             taking the classical bandanna-at-stickend tack
             holding (as they say) onto her breath and heart and hope
             and plunging uppishly into what seems like The Woods:
             a fernacious dense mossedover forest of rain

                    Where the air about her
             is flush with the spirited touch of aqua vitae
             nearforgotten amid the unsmiling sepia
             of her tumbleweedlike troubles: here they melt away
             as lemondrops and oncedoused witches do in song

                    Coming out of the dark
             she finds herself in a ne plus ultra sort of place
             a lofty Herculean Pillar from whose top can
             be seen a sea of trees in living verdacolor
             for wave upon chlorophyll-run-rioting wave

                    And as she emerges
             so too does daylight leave overhead cloudbanks behind:
             in sunnybreak roadform it slants over and beyond
             the iridescence to a city said to be made
             of emeralds; and O what happened then was rich—


Copyright © 1989, 2005  by P. S. Ehrlich

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