my puritan life

And for all
the puritan women
in my life
of my days
round my time

you wear white ruffed collars
round you pretty necks
as in
Van Dyke
oil paintings
in creaky musty art galleries

and your virtue is pure
as the white driven snow
exquisite smile
shines from the canvass
from pretty pale lips
and sensuous teeth

today is Ash Wednesday
flemish painters wept
because of you beauty
and your virgin countenance
made up of rigid brush strokes
the church bells rang
is this
in
present form
or past
all that ls dead
is finished
and no more
my puritan angel