We Used to Live North
So
many long rides back home,
I
can see certain stretches of highway
but
only as one might remember
home
movies of impressionist landscapes.
At
one end of the Empire State,
on
the approach to Lake Erie,
an
open stretch of Devonian seabed
inhabited
by families of evergreen;
at
the other end the moody Catskills
gathered
around the Hudson
like
the guardians of a powerful secret.
The
two ends of the earth
where
our tribes dug in for the duration.
After
church and feasting,
the
elders looking past us said little
about
the success of the occasion,
asking
instead:
were
the children healthy,
were
they happy,
did
we still have jobs,
did
everyone have enough?
Then let the fire die,
let
the stars climb
the
galactic stairway,
let
the wind intone
its
hushed hosanna.
Then
to bed.
