Thursday, September 21, 2006


I will run with the tiger or the wolf
and be companion to them both.
In jungle or in northwoods
we are green
of eye.

Others with eyes of steel and feet of death
are companion to fire's way.
In jungle of in northwoods
only we are green
of tongue.

Like a missionary blind, groping the dark
the lie that prods by servile doctrine
bleeds white both jungle and northwoods.
Only we are green
of touch.

Space without end, amen, is ended.
The head meets tail and is not happy.
In jungle or in northwoods
only we are left
with green.

What we do now in the shadow of our debt
which rips the bosom of our final Mother
in jungle or in northwoods
is last of life's
green out.

(Gone to Gossamer)


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