“Cross and Weather Vane” by Arthur Dove
modern turns old
in my verdigris mouth
copper cupola skin
weathers newborn
ideas to deep tarnish
what once was a
smoothly articulate
vane in surmount of
my mind now stands
heedless of thought
bearing winds frozen
rusting in place
pointed permanently
at my cardinal past
From my books Pieces of Wine and Legacies (vol. 2)