LOAD-BEARING
Strong wind in Minneapolis
today, & slate-gray
clouds (stone solidarity
on high). Big Wind, my father’s
nickname (Indian Guides). I picked
West Wind. Some air
in the ceremony there –
pre-Scouts, & pre-Socratic
too. How a breeze shoulders a mountain
into laurel blossoms;
how one lilac sums
a people in a spell (for funeral train).
The Word-as-Such... the Word is such
for we who have passed over
Lethe. It is more
than scent of orange – it is a torch
lit by shaping lips, a summons.
One hectoring nation
circles on its chain
thirsting for liberation... the romance
of Spring on earth. It is only a turtledove
salience, a gray-feathered
stone from Petersburg;
just a load-bearing mule, hove-
to before Frisco. & you are called to join
the company of saints –
where Livingstone faints
in swamps of cedar (violet, African).
5.23.16
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