the Remembered Saints: My Life and Subsequent Death
Execution of the Sun"
Among the Jellyfish"
of the Manfestation"
Cake and Double Talk"
The field the colors of corn burning,
yellow and orange and white in rows.
Smoke clings to the brush.
Crows hold in a drift and circle.
At the edges of the field the leaves
and the odors of locust and alder
In the center, where the fire started,
a coal in the shape of a hand turns
I cannot pick it up, yet show it
Turning into daylight from a country
the vivid watercolors dry
quickly white and black.
I try going back to sleep,
seeing a white field and a furrow,
but wake completely, hot and dry.
From the tips above my opened hand,
above my spread-out palm:
a spiders' web I had not planned.
I tell you this as well.
I have dreamed this field in moonlight,
and in shadows woman-shaped, have
called the shadows by your name,
called the field to bloom
and spread itself with relics.
The leaves turned gas.
You were with me
in that field. Ash—
I couldn't pick it up,
and can't leave it there.
You were with me, and the sun
was steaming in the smoke. Ash
hand, icon of the field recurring—
I send it to you in your sleep.
not dead yet.
Fairly well-read; on occasion somewhat agreeable to talk
Thinks good country folk are, in fact, God's Chosen
People, and thanks his God for Jane.
"No other marks or brands recollected," as Lincoln