So, in honor of this cardinal day, 3/5 Akhmatova, here is the conclusion to July (3rd volume of Forth of July) (some of the spacings between words do not show in this format):

24

Outside it was now broad daylight; the sun stood some distance up in the sky, looking down on a desolate earth. It was going to be cold today, Per Hansa noticed; clouds of frosty mist like huge writhing serpents curled over the surface of the purplish-yellow plain. The sunbeams plunging into them kindled a weird light. He tingled with cold. . .
. . . How remarkable - the child had been born with the helmet on!. . .He quickened his pace; in a moment he was running
- O.E. Rolvaag, Giants in the Earth


A breezy Sunday in March clouds
crossing the sunlight and in the clay
birdhouse my mother made (knocked
down when its iron wires went slack)

we found a grass birdnest (we can fix
the wire put the birdhouse back up
in the pussy willow it will keep
for another winter extra nef

for another chickadee) Mardi Gras
is coming then comes Lent
Sam Patch in scrambled quilt
crazy Pawtucket from Cumberland

goes into river leaping drifting far and
circling home again so long, Patch
and Julius big Roman E fading chap
a few notes only left left only a ray

of dark matter from the marina or
quintessence of Wimpzilla Pinochet
pinned up with mule's ears by Tin Pan
Blind Tom ineffable inexplicable fingers

of grace out of servitude a fleece
of sound from beneath bronze shield
J's seedy C from Caesar's ceded
sea so see-saw Mediterranean 4-leafy

whorled and loftward bound for the E
in Philadelphy out of Penn's woods
in love with a certain pithy sound
smoked from a tripod's Apollonian thief

of yellow sweetings fading downstream
Lenten crossroad of ash forehead
singing singing brow-bow a drifter-
figurehead mirror-matter's mystery

this waltz become a rivereeee
fox trot of bumblebeeee
my clovery prayer è mobile
crost eft so ftgleeee

and figuratively gone home again
to the little greenhouse at the corner
of 6th and Rooster 132 reconnoitered
an encounter once an image now

no more quoth he but limping
convalescent like the missing

leg upon the earth
my sweet shadow
of summer shade
of luminous ruth

comes faithfully to that tomb
where Lazarus lies with Hope

and cannot live without you and the E
in a dark nest of iron ages tighter
curls a little spiral wrought
of steel-eyed thief

a little spring
a tiny e
yet
b

z
coming
milky from
hive of Zebedee




a q-querned stone from Quito
drawn into straight queue for you
emancipation equality euphoria
come phosphorescent nocturnal

urned forever for eternity
Andean-wound pain-cup become just
Jubilee at last limping staggering
like a wounded jaguar from a winter well

and now in union convalescent
spring of healing hurts the earth
in unison lifts out of deep iron there
these bells droning slow equivalence

surfacing from the depths
bronze dragonship a shield
become light-well delicious
gold poncho sped round

a 1-3-2 we danced easy
we danced easy at the end
around the chestnut tree ding
dong fet fecit finixt see?

a little grass birdnest hidden
in coracle-circle hidden in
green-leafed oak den
come forth then (Edith)

(E) come forth (J-lee)
I dove dove after you
come forth love-neft
Love joyfully come fly. . .


3.5.2000


[p.s. there are 4 large sections at the conclusion of July. Each one is keyed to the letter standing for one of four musical notes sounded by Russian bells. The tone here is "E".]