FROM THE BOOK OF DAYS

E. Butler.  California Spring. 1918

Lebasque-Ergny

William Trost Richards, Corner of the Woods, 1864

FROM THE BOOK OF DAYS

We have seen the paintings

In the cave of the hunt.

The buffalo are so real in

The light of the torches.

They seem to move, the throwing

Sticks and spears flying about.

Today the sun disappeared

In the middle of the day

For a long time.  Then it came

Back.  Many were afraid.

I was not one of them.

The war is all around us.

There is no way to describe

What is happening.  It is

Like living inside an infection

Full of noise and sorrow.

Certainly we are lost now.

It has been many weeks since

We have seen land.  Only the sea.

Always the sea.  It is so large.

In traveling we have encountered

Many peoples so unlike ourselves

That we could never have imagined

Them.  They are each having a

Unique experience as well.  How

Is this possible?  Such wonders.

The maps are incredible.  Each

Place, each gene, is like a universe

In itself.  Yesterday we made a slight

Turn and discovered an entire

Mountain range we did not know

Before.  I saw a huge flock of bright

Green and red birds flying so vigorously

They seemed to be exclaiming.  We were

So far from them their flights resembled

Writing across the sky, yet full of lights.

Lorien

I waited for you most of the night.

Just before dawn I realized the river

Was much too high and fast for anything

To cross safely.  I know you will

Come today.  I write this to comfort

My heart only.  I shall keep the watch.

p.s.

I have never before thought of the rain

As an occasion.  Today it has become

Something I would like to share with you

I spent several hours just sitting quietly

Watching it from the door stoop.