Hiatus




it's trying to figure out what to do with us
--the world, nature, yahweh, the one--
whatever its name is that holds it all together
it's hesitating before taking the next step

you can feel it -- a listlessness in the sky
the sun barely makes it over the trees
and the moon takes months to circle once
the lost winds blow back and forth

after the mythic flood, Noah was well-informed
having read the fine print in the rainbow
fire next time and then a field of ashes
don't forget where you came from

so we put our nose to the ground
and cultivated and grew and harvested and ate
we stayed narrow and watched the sky
put our sweating seeds in the furrow and slept

can you say our wars were proof
of our infidelity to the absolute?
not likely when blood is so fertile
oases growing where armies had fallen

but by now we should have outgrown all that
crabbing like children without a toy
working ourselves or burning ourselves
to death like hopeless gladiators


whatever it is, it is becoming tired
of waiting for us to get it straight
like the line it has drawn in the sand
for us to finally step over