Selected Poems

Knight, Death And Devil

The lipless grin is nothing but an hourglass of fear and mule-faced devils under the horn of the moon are shrill fears I have seen and conquered. A mountain of violets trails through the rocks its final undulation of wings and Death’s horses cowbells clang soundless.

I have given myself to Death many times, when my hair was black and the white dress of my youth followed the loon and the porpoise. It’s lonely here, but loneliness passes, and my horse and dog march steadily onward. In the village the priest has lit his lamp by the fire of eels and there are waves around me like the voices of children.

The air is a circle of snakes! But above me, steep, a fresh bed waits. I have given myself to Death many times. Tomorrow, I’ll give myself green arms above the inn and light three candles. One for each life I have named for myself, a silence anchored to a rock, honest and free, a wild unpruned tree.

He Sees Old Age In A Time Of Youth

Your graying temples. They are fires you
wear on your sleeves, slowburning, that
time puts there. It is so angry and endless,
the body falling from its caverns, the temple
arches sagging and whales washing up on
shore with no breath. Yet the face of
the aged is gentle and pure; it is a
stream rolling over mossy rocks on a
mountain and a blind salamander warming in
the sun.

The whole universe is a womb! I can see
the old hatching from eggs into a world of
feathers unknown before where a green
woman is wearing a necklace of your
name. You fall away from the earth as
she gives it to you, you fall away, and
quietly the soul sheds all this skin.
A new bright child nurses at a breast.