[Through blackberry brambles]

 

Dan Alter

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Through blackberry brambles down their long slope of yard. Sunlight

like curtains. Down the dust & foxtail trail in sunlight. Footpath

through curtains of pines, ground-running ivy, blackberries more

thorn than fruit. Fallen pine-branches & the trickle of Cordonices

 

daylighting for its run through the park which bore its name. Low

in the dry season, bearded with alien-green algae. Oh Cordonices,

thin company in the summer. The hills actually were alive, flies

harassed parkgoers at tables, their faces, their paper plates. I

 

drew breaths from the future, fished algae with a stick, working

at the problem of happiness among acorns, crackle of dry earth.

Up the hill life leaned forward for them, purred, boarded airplanes

for Paris. What was life for? The creek ran low waiting for rain.

 

I carried the problem around like bone, wore it next to my skin

like the key to a house. Sold now: in the window, new owners.

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