Archive
05/23/10 - (1)
Measurements
I measure the passage of these most recent nine days By the parades of goslings and ducklings That have waddled up and down the shore, My eyes following them, in line, as they've swum away, And by the height of the cattails vying for space Where shore ends and dock takes up. Their green shafts make their intention clear: domination.
I measure the length of this just-concluding sojourn By the steps my feet have taken, On their fast a.m. ambulations, Power-walking the tiny town's generally empty streets, And late-afternoon traipses through the boys' summer camp, Over root-trammeled paths stitching its sanctuarial acres — Villages, rec hall, Council Ring, waterfront, woods.
I measure the duration of my rapidly elapsing stay, To gauge the progress of my spirit, on its journey inward, By the evenings I've grilled fresh fish outdoors — North Atlantic salmon, chicken, and steelhead trout — While witnessing the sun set, the moon lift, And the lambent stars take their ancient places In the benign opalescent skies of far-northern Wisconsin.
I measure the fleeting hours left me, this final Sunday, When I must drive away, fly back to who I was Before becoming one with ducks, geese, eagles, and loons, Whispering waves, lunar halos, and wind, Coning, budding, greening, flowering, fruiting trees... Measure these remaining precious seconds, here, By the depth of my sorrow, the breadth of my exultation.
05/23/10 - (1)
|
|||
|
|||
