Michael Igoe is a city boy, neurodiverse, Chicago, now New England. Numerous works appear in journals and anthologies (available at amazon.com, lulu.com, barnesandnoble.com) National Library of Poetry (Owing Mills MD) Editor’s Choice for Excellence 1997. Best of the Net nomination 2023.
Apparition
A poem by Stephane Mallarme, translated by Michael Igoe
The Moon comes to know grief.
Seraphim wept in their dreams,
clutching bows in their fingers
calmed by presence of flowers.
They were playing death violins
while choking on sky blue petals.
It was the blessed day of our first kiss.
The daydream to bring my martyrdom
skillful aggravation from sad perfume.
Leaving without regret or disappointment,
a crop of the dream for the heart’s harvest.
When I was roaming
my eyes were fixed
on ancient pavement.
You appeared in the street,
sunlight through your hair,
while laughing in the night.
I think I could see a ghost wear a hat;
I paid a visit to my ruined slumbers
in the past beauty of my childhood.
I spoiled things within half closed hands
while I smelled the white stars snowing.
© Translation Copyright Michael Igoe