Ever at parting
That your hat is halo,
its broad brim a crown,
orbit of ambit, a shine,
a gloss across the top,
atop a swarthy face.
That your eyes are ink
now, dark, night-black,
a notch, a nod, a curl,
the dark night a party
of young fellows singing.
That your lips are light,
are lightly kissed, are gerunds,
salute of comrades crossing
a street, a deck, the dark,
the distance where you are.
That I would nestle, nest
in your beard, unclipt,
thick-whiskered friend,
inhale your rank & sweat,
now faint, your scented breast.
pea river journal 
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