Being Resolved
and I saw with the most amazing
clarity
so that I had not eyes but sight,
and, rising and turning,…
there was all around not the
shapes of things
but oh, at last, the things
themselves.
Lucille Clifton
the death of fred Clifton
I have to say this crave for a New Year’s Day
resolution
confuses me, the waiting
to make a new life as if yesterday
wasn’t good enough or too soon
to begin being
the person you see in the future
like that person is waiting
for you to arrive at the bus
stop in some can’t be known city
and the map’s not clear or it’s been sun-
bleached and what about delays:
some poor schmuck bus sick
and no toilet and only the open
rainy or dehydrated road? Who of the you is going
to wait for the you who’s coming
and who of the you is on the bench
on the dirt side of the tar
or under the bird on the lamp
pole who came to you in the night
the crow of you
the nightingale of you
the owl
or the vulture of you
Who? or maybe not a bird
as you wait in the station on the side
of the road for that you on the ride
coming toward you. Maybe
it’s an old man in a coat and a hat
and he’s been traveling same as you
and you don’t know it yet but
he’s just died
and when he sits down
next to you the perfume of his old shoes
blows up into your nose and nearly
does you in and you make to go
but he lays a hand on your knee
see me
see me
after all these years see me
he seems to say but far away far away
and you can only make out
see
see
and you think fish and gulls
and up under the pier at low tide hiding,
the mussels and bubbles of seaweed
wait and wait for the water
they are just opening and closing
and living and really,
while you wait
to change your life
or while you ride
to change your life
but really why
what else is there
but right now?
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