Now that we exist
on the other
side of desire,
when I tell you
I love you, I mean
we live
on a planet
that’s dying
& it’s no accident
that the calla lily
is both the symbolic
flower for weddings
& for funerals.
I thought that loons
mated for life
& when one died
the other spent
her days calling
out to him across
the gray pond.
But once again,
you see,
I was wrong. Look,
I will be
honest with you:
when I promised
myself, I did so
knowing not even
the sun lasts forever.
Look! The future
is pressing itself
so closely
against us it has already
passed us by,
& to die must make
the same sound
as the woman
I watched during
a rainstorm
thrashing a river
with a branch.
Could we make
time pass
a little more
slowly? I want
to watch
the fireflies spark
up the tallgrass
& the bullfrog,
that unrolls
its wide fat tongue
a thousand
frames per second,
thwap the fly
that flickers
before it
with its honey-thick spit.
"The Earth Is Rude, Silent, Incomprehensible" was originally published in the Southern Indiana Review and is republished here with the kind permission of the author.
The ALL Review is pleased to present our How to Live series, poems chosen to help readers navigate these difficult and rapidly changing times.
