Nothing Wrong with a Maple

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Go fast, white light, go faster out of sight
The Devil does know
        how to row my boat ashore      Hallelujah
Orange juice, a swing set, the creaminess of milk fat
        But first let’s pull
                the paper’s weight
                        Let the wind blow—
                        O how I love thee
                                   thy shadowy grace
                And the moon off its hinges,
Henry David Thoreau
        Owlets      Thunder      This
                nervous blinking page
                        All the mulch
                                   I spread around
                in the ultra-black bramble     Let it not
        wash away in the very next rain
And let me,
        just the same,
                stand forever in my backyard
                        beneath a maple
                                   looking up—
        there is nothing wrong with a maple looking up—
and gape in the gap of the thoughts strewn around it
                                                                        Pleasantly,
with witchcraft, I return to what befalls    The gone white light,
                                                               the Devil as he rows
                Hairy Beard-Tongue
                                   Butter-and-Eggs
                                   Only for a moment,
                                                 then it leaves me

Matt Hart is the author of several books of poems, including Radiant Action. He is editor in chief of the journal Forklift, Ohio and plays in the band TRAVEL.

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