CRANE MIGRATION


There are not enough candles
to send these prayers, 
not enough copal to incense 
the dying over and over 
as we cross over and over 
the dissolving boundary. 

This is religion, invoking 
gods and goddesses to bless us,
Oh Jesuses and Haleilujahs,
dumb mouths full of tongues
and nests of hair.

The muscle of laughter
is connected to the root
of love, a sinew tuned
to coresonance, woven
together, like the Platte,
with braids of sweat.

Just so is how we come
to disappear, to fly away
in cursive v's, legs in
sinuous migration,
leaping like cranes 
into the north wind 
of each other's eyes.



© 2008 by Richard W. Todd

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