04-26-2020, 01:00 AM
Recall what's folded in this river valley:
honeysuckle, salt factories, glaciers—
somewhere, the tallest tree, elsewhere, the smallest.
What slow sound folds within the trees:
capillary action, water, turning
heartwood, call and response.
What's folded in this river valley:
chest beating personas, boys and girls seeking ways out
and ways in—doors or windows—
snake skins languishing silver on muddy banks,
a choir singing: steamboats, locomotives,
crickets, and lawnmowers.
Recall recall recall
what's folded in this river valley:
forgotten memorials, dead languages
suspended on signpost in public parks,
words like, Ohiyo, Miami, or Shawnee.
Recall glaciers splitting the heads of mountains—glaciers suicide-diving to the sea.
Recall cars driving through Route 50, Bridgetown, Dogtrot, Zion.
What's folded in this river valley:
honeysuckle, salt factories, glaciers—
somewhere, the largest sound, elsewhere, the smallest.
And folded within a sound: the channels, the sediment,
the taste, and the runoff.
honeysuckle, salt factories, glaciers—
somewhere, the tallest tree, elsewhere, the smallest.
What slow sound folds within the trees:
capillary action, water, turning
heartwood, call and response.
What's folded in this river valley:
chest beating personas, boys and girls seeking ways out
and ways in—doors or windows—
snake skins languishing silver on muddy banks,
a choir singing: steamboats, locomotives,
crickets, and lawnmowers.
Recall recall recall
what's folded in this river valley:
forgotten memorials, dead languages
suspended on signpost in public parks,
words like, Ohiyo, Miami, or Shawnee.
Recall glaciers splitting the heads of mountains—glaciers suicide-diving to the sea.
Recall cars driving through Route 50, Bridgetown, Dogtrot, Zion.
What's folded in this river valley:
honeysuckle, salt factories, glaciers—
somewhere, the largest sound, elsewhere, the smallest.
And folded within a sound: the channels, the sediment,
the taste, and the runoff.

