Memory 2

How to live in such a house, in such a way,
the fields stretching out all around.

It's called poetic license -
"the house of some friends I rarely visited"?

It's true that I rarely went up to the house
but I worked in those fields for two or three summers.
One of the owners was a man I'd known since childhood.
(Goddamn hippies. Caring for the earth. Is that the way to live well?)

Long rows of beans to pick
Close your eyes, in bed at night, and see nothing but beans.
Lots of other vegetables too, of course.

I don't miss the monotony of the work
(or the fact that I wasn't fast enough to be considered a good worker)
I certainly don't miss anything else about my adolescence

But the bright blue sky, the clear morning air
the scent of grass and earth
the sweet taste of water when you're thirsty

And the time we saw two bald eagles, circling impossibly high,
the sunlight flashing off their white heads.

I remember those things, while sitting in the office.
Always did hate being stuck indoors.

Subterranean

An eagle looks down from the heights of heaven -
so far up, it seems to float above the mountain.

---

He said: "It has never been profitable."
She said: "But it benefits everyone."
He said: "It costs too much to dig the tunnels."

---

there is no profit in the mountain wind
the cool dark tunnels and
the heights of heaven

One Memory

How one image stays in your mind
one second of time
pine trees in the rain.

Looking out of the window
in the house of some friends I rarely visited.
The long, soft needles of the pines
the soft rainy sky.

No one else has ever seen that moment, that place
that memory.

How one image leads to a string of thoughts
it was a beautiful house (which means, it was very much to my taste)
very suited to pine trees and rain.

How to live in such a house, in such a way
the fields stretching out in front, the pine trees behind.
Is that how to live well?

one moment, one place