Shining Horns

Nature Writing at Raven Chronicles Online

Oliver Rice

And the Radar on Mount Parnassus 

Walking in the woods on Presidents' Day,

		you must take into account

Freud's migraines, his depressions.

Surveying the cupola from a villa in the hills,

		you must give consideration

to the systems that swirl about the news stands,

		towns that died,

the child Lorca speaking to insects.

Listening in awe to the sublimated love song,

		you must reflect upon

the footprints of creatures that traveled in the night,

		the Chinese millions,

	all words with autobiography in them,

		the papers of evil men,

the flute playing of Frederick the Great. 

Some Kind of Articulation

On the beach this wondrous morning,

notice how the plovers dart and pause,

dart and pause, how the lugworms burrow,

leaving their runes on the air, on the sand.

Back in the dunes, read the sea oats,

the pennywort, their hieroglyphics.

Follow the script of the gulls,

how Arabic, how italic it is.