Write Something About Poetics Says Cedar

by Joanne Kyger

     I dream about a totem pole of poets.
Actually it was a poster Andrew Hoyem did
          for a reading of Bolinas writers in the early 70’s
      at SFMOMA and we’re sitting on each other’s shoulders . . .
                                   In the dream, Bob Creeley leans against me.

      The ‘wild’ is looking trimmed and tame
                   with ‘Extreme Conditions’
                                     being the new weather norm.
                                 Where Did
                     all those late night thoughts go ?
               About emptiness
         and ‘the majority’
                                      — being those who have ‘passed
                           away’ from us

                       I don’t like the word ‘old’
                 when speaking about myself —
             preferring the word ‘mature’

               “She is in her mature years” watching
                                 the great Blue
                         Heron strike a gopher in its hole
                  and gulp it down.