In Print At Last In Michigan

At the suggestion of novapsyche some time ago, I submitted a few pieces for publication to a new Michigan-focused poetry journal, Third Wednesday. Lo and behold, I find myself in their inaugural issue, a copy of which just arrived via the mail today, with my poem Let Vain Cassandras Moan. It seemed a bit odd, although I have never made a secret of my origins in the suburbs of Detroit, to finally be considered a "Michigan" poet after all these years (I last set foot in Michigan during a Mennonite men's retreat at Camp Friedenswald in Cassopolis nearly 10 years ago. Before that, my last sojourn in the state other than a Detroit airport arrival was late June of 1972).

In print at last in Michigan
where I was once a child,
before I sought for different soil,
for weather much more mild,

and I began to understand
the difference between
the word as it lies on the page
and what that lying means.

Before I even knew the names
for what I heard and saw
in places like East Lansing,
Royal Oak and Saginaw,

Hamtramck, Ypsilanti,
and that stretch of 10 Mile Road
where I walked to school every day;
before I learned the code -

the language of the falling rain,
that some would claim as art
while others hear just warning
that their world will fall apart.

In print, at last, in Michigan;
I wonder just how far
a 'gander needs to travel
to become just what they are,

and if that place would recognize
its state upon my face,
or like so many others,
offer only slight embrace

and wait to see how long it takes
to turn me deaf and dumb
so I won't cry for mercy
when another winter comes.

20 OCT 2007