You will do battle with the light and leaves
Take warm sun and dive into tannin run
Twisted in the tree roots with the mullet’s fun.
Take your underwater weight of luggage
Tapping speedily on molecules of pebble.
The packets of light and your quanta of joy
Tickling your underbelly in the dusty suspense.
Millikan never saw what happens here
Under the dry door: scales and baleen
Seething with bubbles of light springing up from Ararat.
No trouble in the dark, no fear of vehicle’s pass
At the water table. What passes now is a rumble
On the mound and lichen summary.
Some words by the Mill Pond
Duck weed gone and lily’s on and on.
Mary keeps the wet gully corner.
She takes it all, from the Baptist
To the Catholic and the secular.
Even she that buried in the private yard
Outside of fence and child outside of marriage
Gives each drop and tear to the convict cut
Stony face in her washing bowl.
She mingles rain and the offering
Of bruised and battered reeds and lawn
And never turns away a stranger
Draining to the Mill Pond.