Oraisons Funèbres

Drowning Pocahontas

there is no rambling wisdom

in a mid-winter river

which offers only a coiled

and slippery willingness

it cannot sting a man

into floundering rescue

or spark constancy

she will allow her face

to be arrayed with reticence

and her memorial to be built

as a separate abutment

embellished with false gentleness

and without magnitude

until she finds a tool that

will bury her entire heart

alone within the pith