Émigré Robert Edgar 07.04

[CHORUS]

It drifted for months before it was shipwrecked, Forsaking a city that it had sustained. Its leaves desiccate in the raw salty sunlight. When a new moon arrived, nothing corporal remained.

No heavy-jawed farmer had seeded this seascape Stretching like acres of Tennessee blue grassPastures swaying on the ocean range floorExposing those currents that silently pass. (Chorus) Fish and crustaceans in a transient hotel Turquoise baskets toting stowaway treasureFrom the Florida coastline northbound past BritainHere is no squandering, there is no measure. The Greeks had it right There are gods to be found In the waters and forests And the words where they’re bound. I’ve seen them arriving, year after year Message bales floating toward barnacled docksCarrying cargo of stray ocean drifters,Unaddressed packages, stamped on the rocks. The sandspurs observe the transfigurationOf the stinking corpse of this émigré.The seagrape’s petals consecrate its arrivalwith sacrament sipped through its roots on this day. (Chorus)