Page 25 - Packing for the Apocalypse

VENUS
POEM 11
What is it you want to remember anyway? To wander again and again over the same Lost road? Do you think you missed some Thing that may hold a key to a better way? Today, Venus twinkles above a scarf of fog. The rooster’s crowing outlines a bit of land As his. And is mine to know. I take it in. All The empty dawn in its fullness. The waves To the west down the road and over the hill Roll in slow and crash. The sound rises and Fills the dark space as light breathes into it And the new, shining, innocent day arrives. Why pack at all? There shall be food where You’re going. If you go at all. There shall be Shelter. Other sunrises. Different chickens. And: the world needs sympathetic friends. But my darling trees. My trodden pathways, Rooms full of lived-in me-ness. Flowers put Just there, and there. Pictures, hung there And there. Places to listen to the heartbeat Of nature. To watch light move so lovingly Across the ragged lawn, touching flowers, Fondling leaves, coloring emptiness with Form. Enlivening, yes, a red wheelbarrow. I can pack this only in my mind. Whatever That is. As I have waited here, Venus, and all Her stars have vanished. A softly moving Wet grey fog has quietly erased the night.
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