Birds in Snow

how they trace,
across the very-marble
of this place,
bright sevens and printed fours,
elevens and careful eights,
of a mystic's lore
or symbol
on a wizard's gate.

Like plaques of ancient writ
our garden flags now name
the great and very-great;
our garden flags acclaim
in carven hieroglyph,
here king and kinglet lie,
here prince and lady rest,
mythical queens sleep here
and heroes that are slain

in holy righteous war.
Hieratic, slim and fair,
the tracery written here
proclaims what's left unsaid
in Egypt of her dead.
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