7.30.2011

Dead Reckoning

Dead Reckoning
For Joe


WINTER

In the evening we
carry down our dead
they leave our hands willingly
above Dog Star watches
cold, white
as on ancient evenings,
Dog Star—
bringer of rain.

SPRING

Listen to the grass
leaning soft green
through the fence
singing.

Listen to the green
crawling slowly
away from the yard
where the bones lie—
under their feet,
under the dandelion's
the yellow dandelion's feet—
listening.

SUMMER

Sometimes we take
our measure from the dead
as from a stone that sits
unchanged amid the changing seasons
like a departed shore the dead mark
how far we’ve come through mystery
and how far we’ve yet to go.

FALL
Solve et coagula

The small things go first
over the blue salt edge of the world
followed by a deconstruction
of their tracks
by the wind
that covers and uncovers
the same finger bone
my own
where it fell in confusion
trembling
at the slow moving wheel
of the desert's rim.


asha