Stairwell sermons

Return to me in the predawn dark

As an oasis afire

With golden light

–

These visions float on

With long lost faces

Their voices resounding

With drunken affection   

–

As grandfather preaches

His towering fables  

Each precious word sung

Given a life of its own

–

Down the stairwell again

Into an endless summer,

His sonnets still follow me  

Into the modern riptide