In the beds pressed
close to houses, there is the lesson
to be dressed
but not in the day’s old clothes,
or in the wanting that was wasted
but rather to be
dressed in the quiet
now rare: to stonden tall in the rightwise
to be coiled
in the center, but not to strike. To
unabashedly burgeon.
A wander
by the river pouring
into a bay gives a fiercer
gospel: live
like the soon-to-be wild
rice, growing
at the edges. For you never know when
it will come:
the canoe
and getting beaten with a stick.
Beautiful!
Beautiful!