FIELD GUIDE TO THE FUTURE
: one foot forward, antler velvet
of callouses. Again, step forward,
tree bark papering the tongue
and prospective words like panning
for gold. O fogged apocalypse
exhale, fogged crystal ball breath.
O praise the habit of winter,
of shiver and thaw. Praise the belief
in changes to come.
, in dew-soaked thoughts & dawn
-spun patience, I silhouette the echo
of yesterday against this tired sky.
Nightly now, I practice the quiet guess
-work of disappointment, the slender
-poising of disappearance. Saintly now,
the clouds’ flight of snow obscures
& un-stars the view. Blue again, I
cauterize the horizon with the rising
warmth of patience. I think myself
a small forgotten … birth, a dream
fastened only to the eyelids, a sunshot
rain speaking over its own echo. Kindly,
carefully, slowly, truly now, I practice joy:
I silhouette the scarce-wakened loveliness
of today against the wild hyacinth grow
-th of this (tired, tender) self.
The title of this poem and words in italics are quotations from the poem “In Memory” by Robin Hyde (1906-1939).