On an uneven roof comes midsummer's chore To clear the flue that had all winter roared- A core of darkness with a throat of fire Soaring to a speech of sparks that suspires- 5 White-hot fleets into a world of frost, A second set of constellations we may cross. I cleaned with broom and water, a working witch Fouled by the labor black as a sewer ditch, Like pulling up a fountain by its roots 10 That has no cleaner wet than velvet soot; Every swish and lunge bade me be a bear Until an evening's scrub would wash me clear. I heard a cry like a baby's squeak. A bat. Something in me that could not speak, 15 But saw two eyes like spider's eyes to scare, Gave the thought: I would not have him here. Six million years had put him in his cave. I sought to sweep him with the broom I waved. We were too much strangers for the bat to fear 20 Untoward intentions in my coming near; Our worlds were not close enough to make us foes; (Hate's a thing of nearness as things go.) I would not have him there, and thought to undo him With a startlement of fire out of season. 25 So I built a fire to double summer, Stood by the heat-wavered flue, heard it hum, And waited like a cat for what would come. In a laugh of wings, in a ring of fire, What I saw fly out was neither foul nor fair 30 But a living creature of the living air. (Face to face, my face was larger.) I would not have.... I knew I did not want Such rapid flapping in my fireside thoughts. When I look to flame, I demand to dream 35 Upon flame's own ever-changing theme; Seeing how it prefigures in earnest night The glare of summer, the stars' own light. Because altered fire refused to move him, I called him a black clot devoid of reason. 40 I used a poison. (I would not have him there.) Congealing and winging in the summer air- He fell out indefinite as a spill of inks Dark enough to make me think.
From the collection "Assembling the Earth"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.