Instructions for Moving into the Future

We should let the animals
         graze freely in fields. We should weave
                  fronds of sleepy fern into hammocks
for morticians whose labor prepares
        our dead for elegies. Does the smell
                 of the furnace cling to their hair
and clothes for days, and do their dreams
        echo with voices reciting
                 our offerings? Incense and
candles, rosemary wands; oranges
        wrinkled and sweet; rain water
                in a blue ceramic cup, hair
ornaments quivering with wires of clover.
        To the blue shadow of hills,
                we gave our loves and secrets.
Now we go and ransom them.
         We pin them to our chests, in case
                 the infinite comes calling.
We trace a line from our doorstep
         to any distant opening for light.



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