came up to me & asked
what we’d done
with the treasure. Sorry,
I said, I can’t even
tell you where it went,
Lake Erie, the St. Lawrence,
we barely noticed.
Well then, said the god
of dirt, taste & see
& there she was,
unknown & yet
I knew her,
had seen her
in some hollow of the mind,
flitting & calling,
& not for me,
not to me.
Listen said the god
of dirt & she sang
liquid & lovely
tangled up my body
& mind in blue
and gold and green
thickets of song.
Then she was gone,
gone. That was it,
said the god of dirt.
That was it.
