Living on borrowed land
tilting in decline plane
to Columbia river current
strong, pushing to the sea,
meeting in turbulent confluence
moon tides, surf, susurrus,
setting sun of America
dying light of a dream.

What shall I tell them
who come upon this land
of what I did or said
when the land washed away
to the river and the sea
when the sun sets on them?

I will tell them
of my garden and my plans
that also washed away
down the northwest slope
into Columbia’s roll
splashing frolic into the great ocean.

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May 2016

Inspired by Wendell Berry – The Gift of Good Land

“To live, we must daily break the body and shed the blood of creation.  When we do this knowingly, lovingly, skillfully, reverently, it is a sacrament.  When we do it ignorantly, greedily, clumsily, destructively, it is a desecration. In such desecration we condemn ourselves to spiritual and moral loneliness, and others to want.” (p. 181, North Point Press edition)