The knave of darkness, limber in the leaves Where the blue water blues the green of willows And the blue geese tamely admire the wild mallows In that always summer where memory grieves and lives, Was a childhood friend perhaps, but now has other loves. Or he posed as an uncle, maybe, wise, An old head among the winds of that region, An impartial umpire while the wars were raging -- Or he was the enchanting stranger with Spartan ways Whose judgments were always final. But whoever the Presence was He was cop in your country -- and nothing ever less -- (Though always, in your private legend, one you knew) Saying "keep off the grass" and "no, no," Infecting all your hopes with sense of loss And to all new settings-forth crying "alas, alas." For he is the heart's head-keeper, the bland Insane director of a rich asylum Where sanity is poisoned. He is king on that island, Society's hangman, super-ego, he was born blind; His loves are like Hitler's: upperclass and blond. He is the keeper of what we never had, And in order to arrive where we have never been He must be numbered with the enemy slain -- His voice be loud with those we never heed: His death alone unites the warring heart and head. And wakes the proud blood of those fierce birds -- Else bewitched by their image in the dead still water Of that enchanted summer where their wild hearts wither (As our will is weakened by a crutch of words) -- So again the miraculous thunder of discovering wings is heard. 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...TO KNOW IN REVERIE THE ONLY PHENOMENOLOGY OF THE ABSOLUTE by HAYDEN CARRUTH LOVE IN BLACK AND WHITE by KAREN SWENSON REMEMBERING NAT TURNER by STERLING ALLEN BROWN THE SEARCH (1) by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL SPRING'S WELCOME, FR. ALEXANDER AND CAMPASPE by JOHN LYLY |