Vision of John Winthrop on Meeting His 2nd Wife 17th century

Her Protestant hair
The birth place of sultry stars.
In the beginning, there was God.
At the end,
There will be God
Humans are the intermission in this part of time,
Wrinkled and frayed as it is.

Ethics bloom in comfortable places.
A day’s work, a moment’s pay.
She is an elixir to the dazzling day.
She is a wayward bird
She’s the last good thing in an ubiquitous iniquity.

The curtain is falling,
Time winnows wood.
Hell prepares  dormitories.
Rapturous butter yellow light,
Then, the last gasp,
Voices vivisected as though
Pushed through a sieve.

Hold hands
While you have them.