THE THIRD CARD

 

The red-tailed hawk

turrets his head.

The sun looks down

and makes no guesses.

 

The blue sky’s blue

is bluer still

for blood that rises,

a fountain in air.

 

The red-tailed hawk

stands on the stump.

The chicken runs

without its head.

 

Red red red red

scribbling the yard.

The red-tailed hawk

turrets his head.

 

*

 

When Reb cut line,

the rattler reared

its pharaoh’s head

and oldest question.

 

When Reb cut line,

the machete sung

a silver note

like water flung.

 

Lopped it off,

the rattler’s head.

Lopped it off,

and nothing said.

 

The head falls down,

the body rises.

The sun looks down

and makes no guesses.

 

*

 

My hand reached down

beneath the water

and raised a man

though he was dead.

 

My hand dipped down,

his eyelids rose,

and in his hand

three cards he held.

 

One card showed red,

and on his palm

its script uncoiled

a figured scratching.

 

One card told blue,

and on his palm

its pattern spread

like water flung.

 

Oak leaves like hands

applaud the guesses.

The red-tailed hawk

shakes his jesses.