Tutankhamun poems

The hunt

Ma’at ascends, arms lined with mauve-grey quills
shielding papyrus moons. Holder of truth, embrace
this ebony lightness—cloud of inky ostrich plumes.
Alabaster noons implode—cocoons of gold,
as the sun, a skilled engraver, chisels outlines
of flightless birds—friezes of fervent pursuits—
and the figure of a boy Pharaoh blazes across
the bosom of a sapphire valley—
glistening arrows threading breath
on the forehead of a gilded fan.

Repose

Heady notes of eucalyptus waft as night folds
mammoth wings among the sycamores.
Listen. The clatter of ivory clappers deepens—
coral pulse rustling in tamarisk blooms.
Ghostly flourish—trumpets rouse citrus reeds
billowing by the Nile. Cartouches point the way—
mystic portals—aurelian afterlife, as he,
living image of Amun, slumbers,
a trembling floret in the sand—
Osiris-like, for all of eternity.