A Song of Esther
The hour our ghostly children ceased to sing,
Although not yet forbidden to be wise,*
I sought the golden scepter of the king.
Fearing he might hold his seal and ring
I banqueted the serpent in disguise
The hour our ghostly children ceased to sing.
What ashen words my ailing lord would bring
Proved my heartbeat, conquering all lies.
I sought the golden scepter of the king.
The day was like a swallow with no wing.
He took no raiment, watched the darkness rise.
The hour our ghostly children ceased to sing.
I fasted long, my soul unraveling,
Marshaled every thought against their cries.
I sought the golden scepter of the king,
Who turned our dread to glory in the spring,
The earthly toll of men anatomized.
The hour our ghostly children ceased to sing,
I sought the golden scepter of the king.
*Cf. Milton, PL, ix.759.
© Sam Gold 1995