That night we slept among
star orchards in springtime wind,
while bodies snored dark music
between thunder rumbling.
We spread eye sails on a dark sea,
traveled by shift of lives to this moment
between bluffs. Snow falls on our ears,
cold thoughts, small whispers on lips--shh--
the insects will jump off the planet.
Slowly, sneak the minutes out
from under their powerful legs.
Take time out in bracelets of
riverwater--shh--do not wake
the sleeping infinities in hands
of children. We need the sleep
from which a green land comes.
from Ascent from
Cleveland: Wild Heart/Steel Phoenix Copyright c 2008
by Russell Salamon, published by Freedonia Press,
an imprint
of Bottom Dog Press, P.O. Box 425 / Huron, Ohio 44839.

RUSSELL SALAMON
Russell Salamon wonders what he was doing before he
made a left turn into infinity. Now that he is stranded,
he writes poems which try to dig up traces of our
spiritual origins. In the Sixties in Cleveland with
d.a.levy they worked on finding the footprints of
the Void. The news is good, the Void is not empty,
it is full of life: Us. We write things to keep universes
flowing between us.
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