Salome

White waterlilies, the pale beauty    
decapitated, the heads seemed detached from stem  
hovering, floating like childhood wishes    
and in reality; the darkness of the pond.    
Anchoring the self, in wonderment.    
Mothers words, my life's book of commands    
 a woman's adolescent need,  to be put to the sword    
hot kisses dreamed, the rapid percussion    
hard an stiff like starch, lay open the impenetrable fort.    
Familiar tune, the record scratched and worn    
the dog that sits beside the horn; obedient in need    
Bitten, taut Knuckles, as the strains of the bugle    
from the battlefield call, the cannons report!    
 Heartbeats forestall the corpses of anguish.    
Look behind? the adieu. Lingering like morning's    
soft awakened smiles. He took his leave,    
smart, in wars gold pressed attire.    
The reign's pull on his mount, that rears    
 cold, grounds fingers snatch Salome's dreams.    
Hunting diaries, scribbled old paragraphs.    
Dredging memories. but the image never lasts