Bobbie Grimstad lives and writes in Alaska. As visual as this poem is, it doesn’t make me think of Alaska. In fact, it makes me think of Helen of Troy. The descriptions alone are enough to carry a reader away, by the time we get to the end we’re already long gone and someplace else so to imagine running to escape on another journey isn’t too much of a stretch.
Palace
By Bobbie Grimstad
By Bobbie Grimstad
My memories hold the only palace that I have ever known.
I wander the towers and corridors,
Tread the hidden maze, mount the broad marbled steps,
Peer into crowded galleries through the
gilt framed windows and ochered mirrors,
Glimpse turrets and crenulations,
Silvered trumpets and scrollwork.
I trace the lichened runes
Brush the face of frieze work with mental fingertips.
I lean my fevered cheek against the cool Corinthian column,
And listen to the Aegean plash.
Peopled with the great and gone, I hear the
Whispers of purple and ermine
Cloth of gold and lucent pendant lace,
See the lustered triple strands of those Armada pearls,
Tuck a smile at Ovid’s sly wit.
When I leave it forever, this palace on the Rhine,
My house will burn.
Set the torch alight and kindle the thatch, watch the sparks fly
Let it burn, let it blaze, let it go.
Astonishing
Great images. Magical.