Occasional poem (from Ravenna Diagram)


A droning of iron chariots on
U.S. 80.  Straight through
Elkhart.  Winnebago
memory (in the amygdala).  One

whisper groans like an oak in Mendelssohn.
Becomes a benevolence,
a shade for Sabbath silence.
Word become flesh (my father’s own

right hand, gripping mine, until
he was gone).  Amygdala,
a tower, a butterfly
net for memory (little

Rorschach mirror-wings); the stone
with the 12-leafed rosette,
with Abraham’s whetted
blade, upheld in time... (atone,

atone).  Little portable temple,
your body (innocent son
of mine) – odd grail-stone
now, for a trial in Jerusalem.

Where they open bronze doors for Jubilee.
Let the land rest every 50
years, in the name of mercy;
let the mind roam in humility

of Franciscan donkey (chariot
of Elijah, sparking fire
of futurity).  Dear
Mary, with your high dark heart...


Tower Hill (Minneapolis)

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