Five Stanzas to Thoreau

Photo by Johannes Plenio

Another one’s left the heavy city’s
ring of greedy stones. Crystal-clear and briny,
the water closes over every true
fugitive’s head.

Silence has risen here in a slow-turning whirl
from the center of the earth, to root and grow
and with a lavish crown cast shade
on the man’s sun-warmed steps.

Kicks a mushroom thoughtlessly. A thundercloud
puffs up on the skyline. Like copper horns,
the trees’ crooked roots give off a sound and the leaves
scatter in a frenzy.

Autumn’s wild escape is his weightless mantle,
fluttering until, out of frost and ash,
calm days return in a flock and bathe
their claws in the wellspring.

The one who’s seen a geyser and fled the stone-filled well
walks a path untouched,
like Thoreau setting off into his inner greenery,
nimble and hopeful.