Marianne’s Tango 38

I was watching silence slowly stumble
Across the ragged and rugged horizon
When all turned to confusing noise
When Marianne suddenly appeared in a wicker chair
By me and handed me an upturned
Mussel shell, “Look at these colors,
The colors of a black pearl rainbow”
I no longer saw the shape and edges
Of the shell, but disembodied colors
Of no known origin. I gazed at Marianne,
But she dazzled, too dazzling
To look at for a long time, so I
Gazed at the dark behind her, a dark
That seems to go out in space, become infinite,
This darkness looked like the plumage
Of a dark bird, its wings were uplifted
As to fly away. I gazed again at Marianne.
She was gone. The upturned mussel shell glowed.

Marianne’s Tango 39

I was watching silence slowly stumble
Across the rageed and rugged horizon
This Italian evening was becoming dark poppies,
Motionless. The odor of the earth
Changed from a strong pungent smell
Into the smell of dark, moist grasses.
I gazed at clusters of hazy bushes, close together.
There was a passageway on the left side
Where the bushes and the landscape disappeared.
Marianne walked out of the passageway,
Stood still, as still as the dark poppies
On this windless evening. She appeared silver.
I called her name, but as I spoke the words,
The words became silence. I spoke
Many times, but each time, silence.
It was uncanny, my words had no sounds.
The silver Marianne turned around.
Her back faced me. She went
Back into the passageway and disappeared.
I called her name again. This time
My words had sounds, but no answer.
I heard the echo of my words.

                        Duane Locke