Ambivalence
River Poems for River People
Rivers keep no Rosh Hashanah No January first. On New Year’s Eve, The Southern Mississippi does what it did In Tishrei: rolls brownly to the gulf. I am slicing ginger, thin as I Can manage. Electric heat Flow governed by physics I half-remember Months since fall’s new year. I keep both and neither holds. The apple dipped in honey, the taking Stock. Now this civic turning, the tax year. Two renewals I believe the way I believe In the river: it exists; it does its work. Ginger gives up water slowly, turning sharper, Older. Apple slices yesterday, lemon peels earlier By evening, all are leathered, concentrated. This is what I know to do with time. On the stove, a finished simmer pot Lemon, cinnamon, ginger, cardamom, apple The house smells like becoming Twelfth Night comes and I’ll be inside The quiet before a drumbeat building Though I keep no Lent Find me out in the streets soon Dough on the counter, rising on yeast’s calendar, Answering to heat and sugar No pope, no shofar Only the animal fact of fermentation. The river knows what we refuse Time is water moving south Renewal is continuation I keep the shofar blast, the civic first, the wheel’s turning, The excess before the fast, the mask and the mortar The ginger leathers, concentrated to burn The dough doubles, the river flows south Through every carnival we name and don’t I begin to slice an orange thin
Beautiful
I keep both and neither holds. <3