SELECTED POEMS

Parenthood

 

She comes to us like a tone,

a dance, the poet’s great Open:

possessing us, not the other way around,

attuning us to a new dawn of sound:

 

“What is it, what is it that is coming?”

 

Apparently this is how heaven

also works: a glimpse of it,

then much toiling, then a brief

darkness, then the rest of our lives

 

trying to recoup the initial

beauty: the repetition, the rotation,

all in, as a wise novelist

of the Bayou once portended.

 

 

2003