Visiting My Country
Visiting for the first time since I never left,
I imagined a history of the world
With a braver ending than “God, save God.”
Before safer beginnings in a painted cave
Told me I was born a golden daughter of myth
Eating sweetmeats in doomed gardens,
And a dark son of progress wandering the woods,
Tearing up roots where I could find them,
The climate told us to plant our trees
And rest in their shade until our next labor –
Bending rays of the sun, cramming their energy
Through a hole in a box marked SAVE FOR KIDS.
I never knew that on centuries of traveling
The last hour of light your eyes are alive watching
Blue angels write your name in the sky.
Cling to wings. Test the flight. Then see.