John Wieners, Bless My Trip

...

I had love once in the palm of my hand.

See the lines there.

                                      How we played

its game, are playing now

in the bounds of white and heartless fields.

 

Fall down on my head, love,

drench my flesh in the streams

                                of fine sprays. Like

                                       French perfume

so that I light up as

                                     mountain glorys

and I am showered by the scent

                          of the finished line...

 

(from 'A Poem For Painters' By  John Wieners)