Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Make believe it is so...

Masks in the Rain

A great while ago the world began
with hey, ho, the wind and the rain
for the rain it raineth every day . . .
—Twelfth Night

Hey, ho, they crest the hill—in masks
with drums & horns & holes-in-stockings:
up to the White Horse gently piping.
Wren took ill but held the torch high,
Dobbs parried, swift in his torn doublet.

If the Lord Mayor grant a license to play,
there's hay for a bed. In the stalls at dusk
the lovers prompt each other. Ribboned corset,
farthingale. In rain, the new masks. A great while
ago, the world began. Began our kind: Dukes,

beggars, juggler-bears, heigh-ho as the locals
queue. Change into who-thou-wilt, into the stock
rovers, then the Old-Man-in-a Mask, the moon!
Change into a cloud that passes over the town,
the square, the little lit space where we speak

aloud in fans and tatters. Change into piss-in-a-ditch,
phosphorus flame and sword-from-the-scabbard, trapdoor
and gallows, dead child's face beneath the grinning mask—
Hey, ho, change! for the world began when the rain it raineth every day.


[this beautiful image by/belongs to Jennifer Picard Photography]

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