NAUTILUS
This great chain of command sets forth.
From the east it comes sweeping in. No
one knows what to say : about the swaying
Nautilus flower or the Jasmine blossom.
I take down a towel, to wipe my hands.
-
I may be stained with ink, though it be
not blood : wild winds blow, the rustle
is heard on its run. There are no longer
ceremonies as there were in that other
world. Yet, I may change my mind.
-
A fury of entrance; the noise at the gate
resembles a crowd of scribes and pharisees:
Too late for any messages to now be heard.
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