17
A bluegray bluejay tearducts lined with black
floats over Vermilion Hibbing-hub of Iron Range
little shadow crossing my path passing strange
flash of refugee speechless, seeking way-back
machine one lonesome-hearted personal trail
to Itasca unharmful cascade & (er) beginning
spring of all jail-springs little Frisbee winging
his paper hat free, now down Arthur St. (sail
on, Mendelssohn!) Someone leans white hair
over rainswollen stream into my delta-mouth
blue, gray halfway... Meet me, forsooth in
Bobbie M’Gee St. Lou Healer E’s helio-chair
(a-hover overhead). What be the J of Jubilees?
I asked, as we watched Natasha the chimes
of freedom flashboom over grassland steppes
a cloud-bash thunderstorm & what it say?
It says it says... Natasha says my heart
is bursting its watermain with presence
of universal Heart great & magnanimous
greater than mine, my sheepgate Thou art
my house, my hearth forever overflowing
Ocean River... for Jubilee is Understanding :
Note how Ghost climbs from grave brimming
everliving life impregnable & lofty eagle-wing
or playful Jay hiding in the spruce fluting low
to me for this improvisational cosmos is
hers forever his always & always new goes
on soaring past 57+ galaxies red flame (or blue)
6.22.12
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