IN THE RIVER
Listen to the waterfall.
Late-autumn rain.
Shadow of a raven
passing. Mirror on the wall.
Through this hollowness of things
reflected... way-off echo
of a chord. Blow,
Memphis trump. The milk-train sings
at dawn. I see a pine-swamp
in the background. Gaunt
figure, shoulders bent
into the wash. Her upright tramp.
The long fields, where trashmen sang,
collecting time, scars.
Equal among stars
is your little lamp, my lambchild. Strong.
Underwater, in the river, borne
downstream... your friend.
In my beginning... end.
Blackboard scrape of railroad horn.
We seek a broad place, a place
to land. Slave quarters,
the servants’ house (yours).
Squire’s antic foal is full of grace,
Jessie. The minister of joy
praises with baritone,
bearing the tune (bone-
dry). So we give thanks, Dante.
12.10.14
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