For Sarah Robin S.
[Tall grass, dream boat, advice]
In the distance,
where
you lay among the tall grass,
if you look closely
a bird is reading a poem
and washing her wing in the river
that flows from where I live.
Laying on the couch
holding my book
riding a horse through the war torn landscape
in 1832 Caucasus,
I made a tiny boat,
out of my dreams,
dropped in the river.
in it,
I put a poem someone gave me once.
The poem is soft,
soothing;
a balm
you could rub it on your dry and loveless lips.
The poem is warm,
heavy;
a blanket,
we can go under and I can hold you forever.
the poem is vast,
open;
a map
we can travel it.
She,
who
runs through the mud
rides through the lost
shines through the dark night
said
take it
and send it in a boat
through the rivers of the world
to those who will hear me out
to the lost
to the poor
to the lonely
for a poem is an advice.