home ~ up ~ next




The Arrival Matters


Down this white-hot avenue

In a grayish-silver haze,

I am driving under blue

And brilliant centuries of days;


And a south wind blows and blows,

Tosses the crepe-myrtle trees

White and mauve and pink and rose,

Blows the pollen and the bees;


Where the paving-lines converge

In their clot of blazing mist,

Where the sky and city merge,

Is the point where I exist.


                         Frederick Turner


From Hadean Eclogues, Story Line Press,

1999.  Reprinted by permission of the author.

Background by
Robin's Graphics

home ~ up ~ next