Autumn Song by Gary Boelhower
The moon hangs like a precious pendant
on the neck of the dancing night
and the geese are playing genesis jazz
flying through the portals of heaven
pulled by constellations
and the secret compass of their longing
to make the pilgrimage only
they know how to make
to let their hunger
trace the map of their migration
chanting through the harsh sleet
or the warm breeze all the same
they do what has to be done.
The fierce single syllable
in their tensile flutes
is neither question nor complaint
but a clear and constant yes
to every wing beat
every breath of the journey.
I have waited for this night
for this music to sound
in my marrow and muscle again
for this fiat to ring through the sky.
Something softens in me
some kind of sweet submission
to the rhythms that swing among the stars
the unseen forces that feed us
beyond our tragic choices and inhumanities
the heart of things that heals
and makes the circle whole.
Judges’ Comments:
The judges felt this was a strong poem in form and sound—it feels almost song-like. It fits the theme of North of Normal in its imagery and ideas about migration.
Lake Superior Writers 