Harpers Ferry, West Virginia: a co-poem a la Lu Marie

I haunted the steps of St. Francis of Insects,

now meditating on a rock, brown in the sun,

in hopes of mercying

myself to health.

Across an old train bridge,

Up through the woods,

Lichen-painted,

tucking scrubby oaks and pines.

The river is wide below,

and from here you can see

slabs of rock sunk copper-green,

'neath tubers, tiny from here.

Cicada hum,

Distant highway, and the wind-tree rustle

Here we are, out in the world

Let it ever be anew,

Amen.

San Francesco d'Insetti, you are standing on your rock now,

Looking rivers, accompanied by broccoli-thick trees.

I’ve been thinking about solitude,

in a deep-water way

and about maybe even writing

when the gong-sun hits,

and there you are, and 
your freckles.

I will start with single words.

Copper. Spade. Luminescent

Then phrases, sentences.

[My glass-bauble soul leapt from the bed!

D'ja catch that?]

Then poems,

Then stories,

rambles. Brambles.

You gave a woop, and I roared terrifically back,

So I’ll start here.

LMK & JV