Richard Alan Bunch
Sometimes, what appears is
a gusting wind’s will
willowing through the grass.
The wind plays variations,
uplifts a magpie
flushed with black and white moods.
In the same wind in the same time
appear lovers who pause to listen
three trees down from a startled faun.
|A NATURAL HISTORY OF
red herrings and pretexts
roll over me.
Yet this consolation lady
begins the arduous climb,
from postdated memories,
to heal me with song.
She senses I am more
than a bog of depression,
a doctor of divinity for the wounded.
She knows I am more
than my name.
Serenading me, she
undoes the saddening of my days.
Her songs awaken me
from tombs where cemeteries swim,
where each night founders rudderless.
In her serenades she
shows a rare tenderness,
an ear for the signatures of sadness,
buoys up these convictions, and
helps hoist justice
for this body's spreading guerrilla dance.
Copyright 2007 Richard Alan Bunch
All Rights Reserved
Bunch is a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee and the author
of several collections of poetry, including Greatest Hits,
Wading the Russian River, and A Foggy Morning. His poems have
been translated into Italian, Hindi, and Japanese. His poetry
has appeared in Black Moon, Poetry New Zealand, Orbis,
Dirigible, Poetry Midwest, and the Hawai’i Review. His latest
collection is Running for Daybreak.