Poems by John Pilkey |
The White Company |
Frederic Leighton. Perseus on Pegasus Hastening to the Rescue of Andromeda (1895-96) Who are these foes who ride so bright more sudden than the sun at night? Broad arm bands gleam in golden pride and every muscle knows to ride. One speaks a word, another follows; One man gulps, another swallows. Their eyes run everywhere together to penetrate delusive weather. Thick clouds have parted where they ride as though four winds were tagged and tied to swirl their narrow waists about. Not one relents, not one falls out. The sea is parting as they pass as though its waves were humble grass and they the mowers of these waves disrupting worshippers of graves. Their feet wear nought but broken air and naked heels spur everywhere as eloquent as flowing mane, as hammering hoof on shattered pane. Blue lightning serves for aliment and thunder when the shock is spent. They drink the fire and then respire the fulmination of a choir. They never argue, never plead as though immortal creatures bleed. Apology begins with terror, intolerance of mortal error. John Davis Pilkey |
