Tombeau de Bert Laub | Next Poem
Cathay
I walk in the night,
Unthinking, alone,
My step a dim flight
Of silk over stone.A low window brings
A quavering flute,
A twangle of strings
...I hesitate, mute.Within at his flask
A tiger-man, strange
And somber, whose mask
The eyes never change...I linger with dreams
Of incense and jade
---Through a balustrade,
Rising, the moon gleams.---Bert Laub
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