INNOCENCE

Poem III

Piano play

Like a heron, like a hawk I watch

in the most inquisitive of my moods

keith jarrett and his piano take me to the mountains, ocean waves,

 

how did I say it so well the other day,

the slush and splash of birth,

non-ceasing ocean child making moves?

 

Is this then the innocence you do not wish to lose?

 

what thought is this you do not wish to grasp,

what innocence is this you mourn

what infancy you do not wish revisited?

 

what death you do not wish to die,

what boom boom of what bombs

you do not wish to remember?

 

what alleyway, what heroine,

what fight, what war against what cancer,

what armament, what killing of what deer, invasive tree,

 

what corn and field and soil, what poison

armed deal against what profit, sale’s tax, income,

swimming pool, seed bank?

 

what husband and what child, what wife what lover,

what friend or enemy

what dirt you do not wish to turn?

 

For the sake of a continued belief

in your very own innocence?

Is this then what you lost?

 

Or is it a lot less complicated,

a slight discomfort, a crooked tie,

a shoe of not perfect fit,

 

a spot in paint,

a bit of rust, a stain,

a child astray?

 

some care

and management

some distance

 

and once again

as wise as old

as age and vintage wine

 

as improvised

as jazz piano play

to be of innocence?

 

Erica Weick 2003