Sevenling: At The Intellect's Wake
At the Intellect's wake--what will you have, scotch mist
watered wine or hot spleen juice for tea? We serve it in numb;
no china pots, crystal cups in an ape's auditorium.
Are there teeth anywhere? Please open wide--
they'll be gently extracted; the buffet is cold mush
lukewarm spoonfuls of treacle, with thin cabbage soup.
Where are the mourners? Out in the rain in a graveyard of swallows.
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Sunday Mini-Challenge: The Sevenling
This form was first used by Russian Poet Anna Akhmatova. See the link for details.
Photo copryright and courtesy of Margaret Bednar. Used with permission. Thank you , Margaret.