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