Charles Randall Stanfield: In so Modest a Setting
A giant diamond on a slender ring
Of chrome is what he was. He showed the flash,
Flash, flash of bevels, many, not like cheapo bling,
But heaven’s light. The man was like a gash
Through breathing in my weekday, weekday life.
The Tuesdayness of my existence sang
An aria, a tenor caught in strife
And thrills inside a cave. I knew a pang
Like sharpest emerald that scratched and grooved
A gouge near lungs, and tinged my blood with green
Of hope expected only when Christ proved
That tombs are lost. More like a tourmaline
More perfect than an emerald in tin
Surroundings, he was Aphrodite’s twin.
~ Phillip Whidden
by phillipw | Jun 11, 2019 | CH, ST |