The Transient

for Charles Bukowski

There are rivers flowing south today
that flowed north yesterday, that stopped
flooded, turned, and headed south.
Large rivers, wide and languid, long ranging
weaving across fields of grain, wheat, oats, corn
winding slowly, winking at stars at night
murmuring romantic phrases at each phase of the moon

There are valleys that closed, wept today
that stopped their slow sigh and wailed briefly
that looked up, that looked back at the sun
shorn of mystery, now baking loved land

There are migrant flocks flying home
there are stray dogs knocking on doors
there are cats tending to wounded birds
and wolves, there are wolves waking from a long slumber
to dance, to weep as they sing, as they play violins
and chickens howl, there are, there are
I know there are.

RD Savage

03/10/94

Published in Green's Magazine

© 1994 by RD Savage