Clay-tan, eyeless, voiceless, even in a sense weightless, in motion yet motionless still for centuries and centuries, stuck in this motion of climbing, perhaps lost, these two Paleolithic bison, heads lifted, strained back to the black endless sky, as they climb toward sunny grass. Which black sky? Which grass? Rock-step by rock-step, up they go, on up and up. The black sky at the top of the cave. The grass that is always more a promise in a dream than that sweet kiss blown by watercolored wind. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DREAM, AFTER READING DANTE'S EPISODE OF PAULO & FRANCESCA by JOHN KEATS MOLLY PITCHER [JUNE 28, 1778] by KATE BROWNLEE SHERWOOD THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A BLACKBIRD by WALLACE STEVENS WHERE SHALL I DIE? by MARIA ABDY EMERSON by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 2. THE OTHER ONE COMES TO HER by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS |