SHIFTING THE SUN

 

When your father dies, say the Irish

you lose your umbrella against bad weather.

May his sun be your light, say the Armenians.

 

When your father dies, say the Welsh

you sink a foot deeper into the earth.

May you inherit his light, say the Armenians

 

When your father dies, say the Canadians

you run out of excuses.

May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.

 

When your father dies, say the Indians

he comes back as the thunder.

May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.

 

When your father dies, say the Russians,

he takes your childhood with him.

May you inherit his light say the Armenians.

 

When your father dies, say the British,

you join his club you vowed you wouldn’t.

May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.

 

When your father dies, say the Armenians,

your sun shifts forever

and you walk in his light.

 

 

 

 

OPEN POEM

 

death lies beside each sleeper

that day wakes up

stalks every step

puts down the heel

that pace picks up again

and exhales every breath

except where love breathes in

 

 

 

THE BLUE LOUISIANA HERON DREAM

 

A blue heron

is bending in the rain

fishing for summer

in the river.

 

A boy walks

with pail and pole

across this dream

toward his own

drowning.

 

I will wake

in a little while

old and in the north.

 

A blue heron

will be bending outside

in the snow.

 

 

On a Line by Brian Phillips, a poem on the AGNI website