the death of the alchemist

(from my Snow White poems)

the death of the alchemist

rumors ran riot
when the alchemist died.
some suspected suicide
and murder was muttered more
than once. he had made
enemies, after all.

in his heyday
potions by the pound
poured from his hands.

inventive invitations of
beauty, brains, sleeps and banes,

and though he kerchiefed
his face
against feral fumes,
he surely spent seconds
drifting dizzy on his way
to the window.

        the cats found him first,
        rubbing the door frame
        like the leg
        of a milk maid.

        fears and dreams,
        promises and punishments,
        tangled up
        on the floor, ashy white,
        still.
                   (with gratitude to Jamie Agnello, my faithful critic)