in a land of Gerrhi

LITTLE BUNDLE

Light cottonwood fluff-motes drift

from high green vaults

along the river, Walt.

Thy hobo-hymn floats like swift

Scythian swallows   over the steppes

Gerrhi   in a land of Gerrhi

gray   milkers of mares

Geloni   like Jonah   swallowed up

& cast-off   by the sea again

like an exiled raven

scouring   the salt-sown

slate   for breadcrumbs, broken

limbs, dry vines   any sign

of home, of motherland

Guillaume would understand

Colossus of roses   tall man

grown meek   bemused upon his own

Bermuda   who bears a little

salt-bundle   close to heart

lifted six ways   a hexagon

grown octagonal   a diamond

have salt among yourselves

& plant   peace shelves

atop green Andes   condor-monde

Thus crooned the shuffling friar

under orange garage door

over grey sea-floor   as

poplars, nigh Gellone   signed, Ephphatha

6.10.16