His Ghost Returns to Frijoles Canyon
By Radha Marcum
To the creek and its snow-
choked wedding.
To sky-bare woods—
pools and drifts. To
slowing trout with
taut, watery bodies
hidden on carved rock.
To mossy isotopes of joy.
To the traces of ones
who cultivated dust—
vessels of reed
vessels of clay—
and left black, sun-flashed
flecks of arrowheads.
To fire-singed cliffs.
Here the Earth held
a man who seeded
a death flower, whose body
once-upon-a-time burned
with sun below
the abandoned caves.
Here he returns,
the summer's musts
laid down to ifs.
Only sparrows
shake the bush.
Source: https://3taospress.com/authors/radha-marcum/
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