Adrift on the Potomac

Let the punt proceed through far from
Swiftly flowing waters here. Let the lady
Be at ease beneath a parasol, a glass
Of white wine in her one hand, my own
Resting in the other. Let the tumult
Of the halls of government be shooed
Away, so that this lovely legislator,
And her consort, paid to plead the cause
Of corrupt capital, can call themselves
Adrift from care, and tell themselves
That all they are are lovers gliding toward
Some sort of denouement which won't
Be pretty. Let them not anticipate
The bitten backs and accusations.
What must come may not arrive.
Until it does, the punt proceeds.
The wine is drunk. The legislator
And her flack may float serenely.
Loving, unconcerned by all the things
That they are said to be.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 171 times
Written on 2019-02-23 at 01:18

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