Water Lilies

Water Lilies


sighing,

Monet’s 
Sunlight

(white-knuckled
incomparable
self-loathing)
plunges
violent
ruddy
fingers
into
wading
Naiads’
dripping
golden
crowns

whose 
livid
ivory
ankles
anchored fast
in Stygian
muds
(lapping shoals
of shattered suns)
gods are loath 
to violate
and on Helicon Cezanne even blindly
aptly
praises
striking at all 
that lies beyond our
mortal
sight