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Nachlass

Andrea Naffis

UAE

Nachlass


We flung
tirades of waxed
pellets into
the sun.
Molten driblets,
incandescent
showered back upon
us.
Gods, iconographed
in their mezzotint
lunar shades.

Poets dislodging
splinters of mystic
alliteration,
watched the fall
of leaves, sailing,
bound for
finer shores.

Cumming's pachyderm
adorns the verse
scrawled on the
brown notebook,
left on the abandoned
beaches, to drift
through the
years upon
the vessel of
rhyme,
among ink-stained
sheets,
among nachlass,
its remote yet
approaching trickle
into dust.


Andrea Naffis
UAE

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