Wilderness Token

Wild grapes tied their vines
in a loose knot to the branches
of haw trees strung with berries,
spiced the air with broken clusters
swelled by rains, plundered by bees.

Dry paths led the boy with a gun
through tangled sumac to the creek’s
edge where a pool hugged the roots
of leaning trees and handsful of yellow
leaves sprinkled the black water.

Indian still he stood, two wild ducks,
a mallard drake and hen, filled his
hunter’s eyes, iridescent and shining
they kissed the black water— the wilderness
held its breath, the gun kept silent,
the pair started a single ripple

and swam deep in a boy’s October memory,
honey clear air and gold leaved sky,
until a cold November wind shriveled
the last grapes, and love fell with broken wings
after a short flight through a man’s heart.