Notes

In Memory of Yuri Gagarin

“-at the death of
this small man the
stars threw down
a hand-
ful of dark years
and the moon with-
drew into her ro-
tating cave of shadows and
wept a little. The
Dog Star hid
its head
and the Leonids like
mice ran squeaking
over the Zodiac. The
globe eyed ghosts of
our house of planets crept
out from cold lairs and
huddled together as
the ash of the dog that
died in the sky fled
seeking to follow its
master, this dead man
free in free
fall at last.”
And Death
said “I take
him to me so
that no dishonour
can now or ever
accrue upon
this man or this name:
Yuri Gagarin” Snake

Suddenly the grass before my feet
shakes and becomes alive.
The snake
twists, almost leaps,
graceful even in terror,
smoothness looping back over smoothness,
slithers away, disappears.
And the grass is again still.

And surely, by whatever means of communication
is available to snakes,
the word is passed:
Hey, I just met a man, a monster, too;
Must have been, oh, seven feet tall
So keep away from the long grass,
it’s dangerous there.