for Ted and Linda Parkhurst
How many whispers has the old quilt heard?
How many soft words tickling loved ones’ ears?
How many white lies seeming so absurd,
leading lovers to laughter or brief tears?
How many silences have filled these gold
chalices, their bold crowning pyramids
like steps to higher causes? Growing old,
how many fingertips lingered amid
these off-white columns of geometries
recalling graceful gardens bathed in snow?
Did Richelieu -- in South of France journeys
to fight rebel Huguenots -- ever know
artists would carry Provençal designs here
to Marion? How lovers would hold them dear?
Roger Armbrust
August 3, 2016
