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Naiad Trance
By Paul Cameron Brown
The leaves on their trumpet flames
Richter scale inside pulse stems -
into the gorge, la gorge
throat and crevice
of the canyon arroyo.
Walking the slit
into rheumatism earth
the twilight pain
of Paleozoic ice,
Jurassic Age
whence rupture
sculpted rock
River precipice
the afternoon dangling like shadow
beside taiga sun
lost to dark & rain
toward the water now,
ever, and chemical rushing sound.
Chameleon, I would swear
this journey was that,
worse, sorceress on my emotions;
I left pathways contoured with Merlin rock
& trees like Babbitt refugees
from the Nahanni,
fearful Dogrib aboriginals
swarming my imagination
their scalp-locks loaded for bear.
Arabesque boulder,
lavender curls of winter-wind swept moss and
berets of tiny, dead soldiers. The
moisture between
you and clearing.
Hushed forest
an envelope edge
of moisture patterns,
more leaves
in reindeer formation
asserting themselves
in beckoning sleighs and
trance of veined, elfin hand
skirting cracks & fissure gloom.
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