Wind voyageurs, we knew
what a man puts into his mouth
he eats, where he lays his head
is shelter, that the clothing
he wears, covers him.
Then we had no illusions
about customs or differences,
since the wind was the same wind,
whether it came from the north, the south,
the east, or the west.
Time was a place, we remember,
where the wind was able
to look a man in the face
and remain long enough to hear
what he had to say.
Now there are great numbers of people
coming and going with the wind,
and the wind seems changed;
its voice is never still
and its eyes are strange.
JINXED
I went to the orchard
where the trees were ripe
and found a hard
lemon.
I went to the meadow
when the grain was bright
and heard a crow
sermon.
I went to the valley
which was hidden from wind
and saw a bleached
galleon.
I went to the mountain
whose peak showed no print
and met a lame
stallion.