Entry 44Danielle Froom
As you well know, I've counted the bare, sun-burnt buffalo of Utahska And scaled the broken scree where the Niagara once churned I've reeled down the black Missippa-- in sight and sound— with stomach turned Though, there too have been wonders such As palm shoots I've cradled in bare hands Swaddled in steaming loam Yet hereupon Sanave's frozen shore The final core of Antarctica-That-Was I came upon a beached score of giant squid Their last thrashings stolen and bereft A hot breath cast futile into this December morn Implausible arms flash-frozen lash Forever on foregone floes And I wondered at my first touching What madness drove our joint arrival Last New Year's Eve, In Brightmoor's sodden stacks I watched a child give his papa's last book to the town compost And whisper a prayer, for a chance As this year's last night turns over into new day We shove our ship amid these sad hulks And carve a supper from their skin |
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