stanza my stone

gammas & gerunds: The Mango Tree

gammasandgerunds:

     Let them return, saying you blush again for the great
Great-grandmother. It’s all like Christmas.
     When you sprouted Paradise a discard of chewing-gum
took place. Up jug to musical, hanging jug just gay spiders
yoked you first,—silking of shadows good underdrawers for
owls.
     First-plucked before and since the Flood, old hypno-
tisms wrench the golden boughs. Leaves spatter dawn from
emerald cloud-sprockets. Fat final prophets with lean ban-
dits crouch: and dusk is close
                               under your noon,
                               you Sun-heap, whose
ripe apple-lanterns gush history, recondite lightnings, irised
                               O mister Señor
                               missus Miss
                               Mademoiselle
                               with baskets
                                                 Maggy, come on

—Hart Crane, Key West: An Island Sheaf