–for Terrance Hayes

Once when my coat
was too thin, and one torn
pocket was all I had left of
a great love, I found
a blue canto
that calmed me. A pine
tree was in it, and crows.
In my head: one ant
after another, carrying
its burden. Art
sometimes can enter
through a sliver.
Give it a broken fence, it
will trellis over. Once,
when no one was near,
a split tree
calmed me,
and a crow’s cry tore
the air, and my ear
found an oar,
and I rowed.