Driving east at Halloween, hearing the news from Kosovo,
the news of gay-bashing in Laramie
Was it winking or was it rain on the cement
prompting the kids toward Halloween?
Were the neighbor homes and lights returning
to some order– assuminganother
waytoward precedent– here– where
the candidates stop for chops/ the sniper
counts down shots like therapies.And the stacks
/ pallets– the scrap tubing/ tanks –
as always and at best conditional– the littering
huesandsmokeandrainthere
on the pavement– andthis truckernow –
missingthe lanescut down– taking
a barrel or two off to the side before he’s noticed –
burningthe liningsstill– deciding
late and North and one more way toward Avalon.
Sowhatif the corn’sbeen
taken offas scheduled?So what if the news –
more shrillandchoiring reprisals–wears
the looks of streetswherekids learnquick
and signature– if the rubberbullets –
spentinclearing offthe corners– assume
our attention now– becausethis weather
has to quit? The autumn leavesspin down
like trumpwhereno one’s counting.
Was that a boyspread-eagle on the fence-wire
when I noticed?I’mclimbingthat hill
two blocks– to that house across from Schmitt’s –
enjoyingthis marchtoward Halloween –
these winds the kids climb vanishing– pulling
the world up around– awayfrom
the blocks cats dig– meaning to locate industry
and something again besides–where
the slopes drop off to pay-per-views and buyers.
It’sautumnandafterandahead –
where the windsshook downthe many leaves
into that field.It’sfallin the smoke
and barrel fires– inthe sootyrorshachs
roofing country houses– speakingnecessity
andneed– inthe grid-ironiconography
/ the banked leavesthe last of daylight’s
poking under– that witchand her sister –
dressing the shedding oak and phone-pole –
provingthere’s no worse riskthan flying
in the dark/ thantheir own
free -fall– whenthe nightmares
snap on them!
*
Sothe forest greensandforest scarlets
draw us home– findingthe routes
by heart– the shape of that doe– a step
or two steps shyin tractor light –
spilledtoward invisibleand less– a part
of the evidenceno less– achild
no less/ andsomething elsebesides –
losttothe rust-hued earthandspans
oftreated lumber– besidesthissudden
expensive red– hauntingthe range of loss
andopticaladjustments.Some evening’s
desire’s just aboutas much as we can stand.
I’mthinking of youElizabeth–driving
to youElizabeth– remembering
your Monday eyes/ the weight of a week between
/ another Friday’s traveling– calming
myselfwith Porky’s musicand Pittsburghese.
Andpayingthese debtsin Time –
seeingtheselightsinneighbor homes
through thinning branches– the leaves
asthey drop around/ blowdownamong
the limbsthatscatter them– figures
that rise from smoke and count on our decoding.
Butwhathave the colorsever said –
pumpkin and noir/ the garage flags ever said
/ the newsas it was– behaved
as the old enemies expected– kids shimmering
as kids will– seeing the kids on fields
where the legendsmade to play– looking
like runners-up– in their assailable attire –
andspeakingthe scoresanother time –
a sentencethe pastaccelerates –
believingautumn’s just ahead– even
when rain quits– and in the hearts
thaturgethe stories
to strong forms.
***
Robert Lietz (photo by Elizabeth Williams)
Robert’s poems have appeared in many journals in the U.S. and Canada, in Sweden and U.K, including Agni Review, Carolina Quarterly, Epoch, The Georgia Review, The Missouri Review, The North American Review, The Ontario Review, Poetry, and Shenandoah. Seven collections of poems have been published, including Running in Place (L’Epervier Press,). At Park and East Division ( L’Epervier Press,) The Lindbergh Half-century (L’Epervier Press,) The Inheritance (Sandhills Press,) and Storm Service (Basfal Books). Basfal also published After Business in the West: New and Selected Poems .
He has completed several print and hypertext (hypermedia) collections of poems for publication, including Character in the Works: Twentieth-Century Lives, West of Luna Pier, Spooking in the Ruins, Keeping Touch, and Eating Asiago & Drinking Beer.
Recent Comments