Ezra Pound in My Dream

Ezra Pound in my dream, the young poet

Resembled a singing cobbler—

Instead of shoes he held

Sheets of papyrus

One in each hand

Two stark white portals

Beckoned as if one could enter

& veins on pages

Words & omens

Fritillaries

Butterflies

Theban scrimshaw

Flesh perfected

Diagrams of possible life

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by skuusisto