Fourteen Lines for Elijah by the Sea
Tomales Bay

Willow and alder tangle noiseless, bare
Limbs grappling where the Holstein sink knee-deep
In cold muck's stink, and ruminate and stare
Through us, to hills. We're dumb to them. That creep
Of soil downhill, that glassy winter calm
Where tides that put a second on the year
Retard the earth's turning, raise the alarm
None hears. By now we've all turned a tin ear
To change, the winter opening like a rose
To hold us, the air flaking off sapphire
Oceanward, and I'm freezing.—Now suppose
I break down in pasture, like an old tire,
A last gesture, artless as one that left
Nothing but sinew, hair and bone for Death.

 

Poems by Jamie Irons: