IMAGES IN A DUSTBOWL

Catching the corner diamonds, where
both images break white,
couples will stare at bonds
that seem harmonious light.

Quicksilver clouds their faces; yet
"All I would have you see
(in the forgetting glasses)
were love lent them by me.

"The lying-brawl deceives us, bends
to desert or to waste
those who will end by leaving
a maze impurely paced.

"Honour and flesh are valent, though
their crops be lame and quelled,
such winds as blow are violent,
and the trees have been felled".

Mere worship ends in a mirror; lust
in drought and vigilance.
How much dust and error
before Love learns to dance?