Tuesday, February 19, 2013

On Elemental Sentiments


Sand Flesh and Sky

Clarence Major
*

Our ropes are the roots

of our life. We fish

low in the earth,

the river beneath runs through our veins,

blue and cold in a riverbed.


When the sun comes up,

the moon moves slowly to the left.


I tie the logs and limbs together,

holding them in place.


The ocean beats them

smooth like rock.

Here my sense of time is flat.


I find in a strip of damp sand

footprints and marks of hands,

and torn pieces of flesh.


Night is a beast.

The tide moves, gushing

back and forth.


Sunlight touches our faces,

turning us, turning us, turning us

in our morning sleep.



1976
 

-from Configurations:
 New & Selected Poems, 1958-1998

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