And to have felt the word
These trees breathe forth one
Syllable maybe two or more who
Knows these patient trees
Reflected in the Big Lake?
And to have stood among the silent pines
That haunt the bottom of Lake
Michigan
And there to have sought
God’s great pit of a heart
And in the drowned village of sweet
Severities to have come upon a soul
You didn’t know you sought
And to have heard her limpid music
Echo as from a dry well
And to have remembered that you came
From this town knowing nothing
But ditch burrs and dust roads
Brief angry summers and the
interminable
Spite of winter
And never to forget
The ice in your mind in your throat
Melting at summer’s livid end
When flags hang wet
Despite this ashen heat
This gray sky waiting for rain
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