& so concludes Ravenna Diagram, bk 5


J was for Juniper (Maia genus,
Jenna) – an ordinary
quiet little tree –
you find them everywhere in Rus,

U.S.  One of the cedar family –
of which great masts are made
in Massa Maritima, she said;
& note the canoe, so beautifully

wrought, that graces this garage
full of rusted implements,
old iron junk (ribs,
tubes, gunnels, disjecta, garbage)...

no, don’t kiss me now, it’s almost
Valentine’s.  Here’s a letter
in the litter, from your brother
in Minneapolis (him & his boats!) –

expatiating on that Inland Ocean
stretching from Superior’s
index, through Mississippi
dells & vales (his new obsession)

leaving these microscopic spirals
...in the pervasive buttery
limestone underbelly
of the land... seashells, fan-whorls;

epitomized in one moist flesh-toned
stony nave & spire
(near 34th & 34).
Meek modern well-proportioned

masterpiece, harmonic matrix
of father & son (elegant
Eero, eerie Eliel) – bent
Saarinen ark, soaring to Beatrix

rondure... O navigators!  Inching
over gravity waves,
black holes, ripe graves
of wombified Vikings... cinching

one planet with your splintery
kaleidoscopes (wind-
buffeted facets of land
& sea) under Dancing Bear, Polaris!

I would scratch my cartoon of your fellowship
with the circumference


of an almond salience –
one bright Penny’s (legal, tender) skip.

A dove circles the Bay there, Columbia
where the beats gather
spliced to twine pillar,
shrouds & safety nets of a still Finlandia

wheeling wings, massed between sea
& cedar palisades,
Pacific rock parades
& sigh of spray... enveloping, visionary

finish at the prow of fiery
sunsets!  & I recall
the rudder of it all –
kind capitan of Little Rhody,

prophet of soul liberty
gold Independent Man
atop the mobile span
of Providence – abeam with charity!

Wrapped in cloud, the binding peaks
wink now with S.O.S.
Laurentian Divide is
where the waters separate – soul seeks

her Earth, commensurate with hope
– justice of Manitou
sluicing like rain (for you
& me) across wide prairie slope

to live-oak bottomland.  My faint
hen-scratch... mere filament
to trace the lineament
of Kalevala-coracle – St.

Mary’s fishing-boat, or Paul’s
(vain little man, whose plan
would hook Leviathan) –
one rosy ark, riding the squalls

where refugees huddle for warmth & light.
O womb abrim with life,
grail-casket, Raven-knife
matrix of River’s coppery might –

lift up your little pine apex!
Crown my origami fleet
with fir-green fin – beat
time with silver oar (moon reflex).


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