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Iphigenia walking toward the altar,
one long day and then so soon all over.
Which shall be our family of myth?
New moon. Wedding at sunset
against the backdrop of the Hudson River.
C. Diff? Murky malady. Ebola?
What calendar when there’s no word for time?
The fall semester races toward a start,
the divorce crawls toward a settlement.
Visiting neighbor, cloudy forenoon:
carrots, zucchini, lettuce, onions,
heirloom tomatoes, ozone, acid rain.
Destroy the tunnels, they’re rebuilt again.
Hummingbirds in the bee balm. Scattered showers.
What rubric, what barometer, what headline?
Slavers anchor in the harbor,
then go inland to ferret out their treasure.
What hoard, what hedge, what leverage, what barter?
Supermoon. The destruction of the Temple.
What liturgy? Dormition of the Virgin.
All rivers flow into the sea.
Barnet: Town Hall on the economy,
so distribution should undo excess.
What agency, what slogan, and what vision?
Water on fire. Elements. Hot stains.
On the brink where no solutions remain,
nothing sustainable’s left to sustain,
what should we do? What shall we ever do?
Should we shut down
or turn away from the black crack to green
lawn and drowse away the afternoon?
Grass a flag of hopeful green stuff woven.
Green a blanket over the abyss.
Green a weave: renewal, pleasure, hope.
Day lilies. Shadows. Clouds float overhead.
What memory, what yardstick, what conclusion?
A slit of light under a closing door
and then no more?
One long day and then so soon all over?
Extinction, decimation, diachronic,
synchronic, syncretic, plague and cure.
Medium and message. Dislocation.
What trope, criterion, or iteration?
Theme and variation:
the slave ship anchors at the river’s mouth.
Tunnels, tunnels branching underground.
Summer clouds sail slowly overhead.
Iphigenia paces toward the altar.
Copyright 2023 Rachel Hadas. From Ghost Guest (Ragged Sky Press, 2023)
Rachel Hadas is the Board of Governors Professor of English at Rutgers University—Newark and the author of more than 20 books of poetry, essays, and translations.

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Anyone who’d Grass a flag , whether subject or verb is camping with me. Lovely poem! Thankyou so much Rachel!
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