BANTU RHYTHMS
—after THE SONG MT. TAMALPIAS SINGS
Under full moon the Azores float in an uneasy sea
and slow speech drips off the rocks like memory
My mother calls to me in her dreams
This conch shell sounded nine times calls home the fish
because there is nowhere else left to go.
6/85
Weeping willow leaves drift in the pond
ducks chatter. One is lost by the art building.
He has feathers missing on the back of his head
Long corridors lead to fragrant lawns
where Persephone emerges into sunlight
with one hand shadowing her eyes.
6/85
Walk blind through the night
The elephantine theme of blank paper
afraid of the ink of night
afraid of the light
Is there a reason for poetry
The sun's middle name is water
and mice, afraid of the light
scatter like stars
on velvet tongues of whales
while I try & decipher the message
left by their feet.
6/85
The mother-tough jacket hung on the nail,
empty, with oars missing
fragile mud in the palmate structure of leaves
hands dressing seeds, embryonic seeds
shaken loose in sheets
this budding lake where we hoard iron
under rowing scows, rust shavings
under empty sleeves.
6/85
like hair falling from Daphne's shoulder
the willow gleans a green mirror from the pond
stillness, redwood lakes, after rain
clay water depths choked with bracken fern and sedges
like some burial ground in front of me
this hand uncovers ghosts of the past
the rug is tightly woven because there is no tomorrow
water roars like banshees in the hills
after the fog has lifted.
Rilke's mother plays piano softly
a young girl in taffeta rustles through empty halls
how many people can offer you green silk thread
when you ask for it?
a child combs her hair into the windy night.
6/85
Cazadero? CPITS?
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