Letter to America
What see what look for what
seems to be…
– Robert Creeley
The pine spreads the needles around the yard,
salting it.
Small factory of morning.
Wind through the oleander
like history vibrating
inside the century.
The lizards scatter, four em-dashes disappearing
into the darkness under the shed.
The vertical epistle of the pine, tallying the light.
I used to think the most important thing
was to lose everything gracefully.
Now it is only the chance
to keep losing everything
a little longer.
Little white flowers proving justice.
Luck’s lugwork.
All I’ve ever wanted is to thrill a cardinal.
My son wants me to tell him the story of Hermes,
the fastest God.
Imagine having bird for feet, I tell him.
Then try to understand Hermes’ relationship
to the sky.
July as a code for what rain does
to a farmer’s brain.
A pilot light is always ready, and yet
perhaps the greater error
is believing—
Tyler Meier’s poetry and nonfiction have been published in Boston Review, Indiana Review, POETRY, jubilat, Washington Square, Bat City Review, and elsewhere. He works as the executive director of the University of Arizona Poetry Center.
Header photo by RondellMelling, courtesy Pixabay.
