THE WAY THE COUNTRY MOVES

Another poem from CRUISIN' AT THE LIMIT, Selected poems 1968-78, published by Duck Down Press, Fallon, NV. 1982.

THE WAY THE COUNTRY MOVES

Grey clouds of unknowing

if the answer were just

it would hold up its head

like the rest of us.

I could talk about her hair, the way the country

moves in it, making cities and towns shine oh heart

with its rose, oh reminder of the weaver, sayer of the name.

Out she came from Belvador w’hands that sang themselves

into the air and gathered to her animals and birds, sparrows

in rings around her good feet and loved them all she did.

And wind across the desert under stars, they come and go

with their bands of dogs, travelers to the other fair,

I’ve seen you there among them, caught at your ankle

and tossed you down laughing to the silks, camel smell

on your body, you said you were the watering maid

and I was son to whom?  It comes and goes so quickly

I miss the shape of your foot, the lashes of your eyes

so quick there.

Who has in hand the answer fair

I would give them to the fire

who has in hand the dreamer’s light

You’re well to call them liar.

Come out with me, come out with me

the night the stars are flame

all opened up like rose and tooth...

it shall not come again.

And what then this bird that rides above the words?

A sparrow or a dove it matters not,

it flies, it flies, it flies.