November brings no rain. Brown stubble blackens.
Torn paper litter, wind-blown with the leaves,
Piles up against dead stems. As traffic slackens,
Nightfall brings fear, and always now one grieves.
Where I once listened, lonely as these young,
But with some hope beyond what I could see
That meaning might be mastered by my tongue,
Anonymous process now claims them and me.
Perhaps the enterprise of mind is vain;
Where hucksters sell opinions, knowledge fails,
Wit pandering to the market, for gross gain,
Corrupted words, false morals, falser tales.
Though one I loved taught here, provoking strife
By speaking truth about the human word,
And died—as few men do—ready for life,
I, teaching in his absence, seem absurd,
Seem almost unremembering, unawake.
And should his poems live—some consolation
To those who knew him and to those who take
His measure by their worth—their celebration
Will not be here, not where the idle gaze,
Touristic, slides past phoenix palms to stare
Where Mount Diablo dominates through haze,
The ever-diminishing waters and the glare.
From Taken in Faith published by Swallow Press/Ohio University Press, 2002. Available in bookstores at $28.95 (hardcover) ) ) and $14.95 (paperback).
