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Minnemingo Review


Silva sub Nocte                                                                      Derek Sullivan


Enchanting: the greens
And the lunar-blues
Slanting through leaves
And the perfume of nymphs
From the mirror of dreams to whom


I step slowly, unknowingly
Coaxed by Selenian silver and holy,
Holy are the angles
Down which my eyes
Slide and entangle.


Sang the moon
To the fangs of the flowers and
Sang the moon
To the joy of the hours
Spent idly in stasis;


The sadness of her face
Is the basis of
Madness smiling,
Finding a place to rest in my view:
The greens and the lunar-blues.