Glory of plums, femur of Glory.
Glory of ferns
on a dark platter.

Glory of willows, Glory of Stag beetles
Glory of the long obedience
of the kingfisher.

Glory of waterbirds, Glory
of thirst. 

Glory of the Latin
of the dead and their grammar
composed entirely of decay. 

Glory of the eyes of my mother
which, when she died, closed
inside her grave,

and opened even more brightly
inside me.

Glory of dark horses
running furiously
inside their own

dark horses.

Ghenga Adesina ~ Glory

Happy Sunday.

Jon Hassel ~ Amsterdam Blue

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