WHEEL-ROSE
Memorial Day. A good man’s ashes
hid in stone by-way,
two steps from coppery
Minnehaha. Her long eyelashes
(Florence) his. Only a mile or so
from viridian jungles
of springtime (Mendelssohn).
His father (Edward) fended the blow
at Saint-Mihiel. & Katherine,
from Reading – with a red
peony, under a shed
in Belgium. Only 29.
Red Cross volunteer (unselfish
clear-eyed gaze). Poppies
in a man-made sea
of miseries. The human wish
for Providence is octahedral
diamond. My open road
is riven motherlode,
adhesive gossamer. Vein-trail
of cottonwoods, bent by the wind –
a flexible thread of silver-
green, a gusty poplar
grove. Slight syllables will bind
this dream-sail to a Temeraire
leaving Galilee harbor
(bound for Superior
beneath the wheel-rose of the Bear).
5.31.16
River trail (with cottonwood fluff)
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