The Calf

We came here for the leaves in fall,
For the handheld saw and hoe,
For the deserted land’s long haul,
And the river’s future flow,

Not for friendship, pride, or greed,
But for the simple air,
Not just for fields, but for the seed,
Not from emptiness, but care;

Not just for wheat, but also chaff,
Not just for balm, but also blight,
The broken fence, the stumbling calf:
We came here for the night.

The nights are different now,
Lit by lamps and roads,
The scenery fallen from the bough,
Nature brittle at the nodes,

And having seen the sunlit world
Around us lost at last,
The endless sky-tipped land uphurled
Into the fading past,

It doesn’t make much sense to stay,
To turn a fancy to a fight –
We only came here for the day;
We only came here for the light.

December 26, 2004 (date questionable)