I keep meaning to put this poem here, written for the occasion of my ordination, April 2015, by my brother, Peter Dawson Buckland. You may find it in his book, Heartwood.
FUGUE
Downstream two sandstone pillars,
collapsed legs of an argonath
who shouldered raucous trains:
people, lumber, coal, steel, gas, and oil.
Time brought him down.
Those pillared feet sprout knotweed and reeds.
A bleached sycamore reaches for clouds.
A stern-backed bald eagle alights,
hunger fortspinnung, thirsty for her
life swimming in the
river.
The constant stream carves a runnel near my toes,
rushing over this sandstone sheet’s lip.
In a millennia the runnel will crack
this rock
into being
a new rock
into those rocks and then
some other rocks
on the bed of the river
worn to be grit surrounding the eel grass
in the bay
taken in to grind fish
in the gut
of a
crab.
Upstream a creek bends beneath black willow digits,
bringing its countertheme where it becomes river,
undulations, ripples,
trout scales,
eagle’s claws,
the river anew
beating
to the sky,
to the
sea.
—
“Fugue” is the penultimate poem in his book, Heartwood , available through Eifrig Publishing.
“Fugue” is the penultimate poem in his book, Heartwood , available through Eifrig Publishing.
One Response
Beautiful Catharine. Your brother is very talented.