Abandoning History
    Fingering a lie
    As compressed to an ink-on-white paper
    Rectangle,
    A memory reshaped
    By a descendant’s caressing hand,
    I remember,
    "Truth is what you want to find.
    Reality can be taught
    To conform to your design."

    I'll walk the creek,
    Its memory unaltered,
    And let my unpracticed eye
    Try to read stones.
    I'll look at remnants of the mill dam
    And forget every word
    Written of the man who built it.
    I'll look for yesterday's fish,
    Not fishermen,
    And rest content
    With the earth's incomprehensible tongue.

    7/1/84

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