Playalinda
The honey light of Florida I see
In you, the orange-blossom nectar turned
To amber. Frenzied buzz and frenzied bee
Produce a beauty like your own. We yearned
For it for decades. Now it comes in you.
The gold of hair against the suntanned shape
Is like a spell, a sacrilegious view.
Gold filaments are on your suntanned nape.
You have no right to be so lovely. God
Should not allow such honey light on skin.
It’s more than we can suffer, but it’s odd,
Too. It is holy and too close to sin.
..Where that head lies, where that neck lies, is where
….The gods should be, aglow in warmth on hair.
