LABRADOR SUITE,

A SONNET SEQUENCE

 

 

FIRST STOP, NORTH SYDNEY

 

                        Our Appalachian slopes are also floor

                        beneath the sea that leads to Labrador,

                        to Newfoundland and on to Ireland, Norway.

                        At last, we come to do the Trail in our way.

 

                        Now it begins.  Soft night will come to mask

                        these asphalt acres overlooked by neon,

                        strobing, probing: “Destination,

it urges,  du navire est Port Aux Basques.”

 

                        Launched from our accustomed contexts, we

quite suddenly are simply who we are,

exalted in still streams of pilgrims by

the joy of embarkation.  Spilled on high,

light swims in colors over rain-slick seas

of tar, and bluegrass ripples from a car.

 

I want to jump our truck and dance around

to celebrate this fair expectancy

illuminating savage desert ground,

a welcome and a welcoming esprit.