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The Dance Hall at Arles, 1888
When I entered the room,
you did not make a sound.
You stood, austere and in velvet,
the people, witnesses …
Your classic moment of pause
before the night.
Baptism
Beneath the oak, my eyes married you
and now I sink in your repose.
E’er begotten, a son in my womb
and the smile of fancy, a gentle god.
The waters cover me as I am changed
to liken after you a spirit,
your clothing of decoration
and hair of comely chestnut.
At first glance, I caught you
and now, you sink beneath the earth.
Coronation
The pomp and rejoice
with yielded grace,
moment by moment
appearing to you
in arms, at rest.
Come thee hither,
to a nation’s bow,
in royal decoration.
A soldier’s post
and maiden’s vow,
to find eternal placement.
Sapphire and gold,
a likely service, just:
the evergreen seat,
a favor at dusk.
–Emily Isaacson
From THE FLEUR DE LIS
