New poem
My rich phantasmagoria,
spewn molten, congeals black and dun,
dejection cone of scoria
post solidus, heat spent and done.
Damnatio memoria,
put one word down and then it’s gone
with a sardonic gloria,
a true Roman oblivion.
But out of folios thrown down,
a dead leaf mulch of red and brown
under bare branches’ bony sway,
green growth may break through to the light
in crocus mauve and snowdrop white
saffron gold-hearted, in new day.