It is here on this ridge exposed to the orange dusk of mountain autumn that the story begins. Buck wood for the stove feel the heat of shoulder to tendon greet the mule deer and water the garden again. In rhythm, with song when the ax begins to blend with wind carry on to warmer days on the river’s open banks where the fervor of healing is found in water. Flow from one origin to another-- there is never a place where we cannot begin where the current is ancient, the wind is young teaching each other like the ax and the wood. Carve a place for dignity plant a seed and pray for rain for sun for understanding outside your self. There will come a day when they say: who do you think you are and another day will come for you to tell. On that day the story will appear but do not tell of yourself tell the story of the staff that blossomed in the desert or the one about your enemy’s greatest victory tell the story of somewhere else
From Somewhere Else by Matthew Shenoda. Copyright © 2005 by Matthew Shenoda. Published by Coffee House Press. Used by permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.
Matthew Shenoda is the author of three poetry collections, including Tahrir Suite: Poems (TriQuarterly Books, 2014). He lives in Evanston, Illinois.
Date Published: 2005-01-01
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/somewhere-else