BLUE RAVEN

the raven floats through the blue shadows
of pines and campfire smoke

I want to follow it
through the cool woods
above wet shale and ragged limestone
I want to find the boy
who ran out on me years ago --
the one who stole my passion
for puzzles and mazes --

the one I ignored until he slipped
out the window on a morning like today -- seeking scrolls
hidden in caves -- maps
under the wings of birds -- songs
in small creeks

I intend to find him --
I will search every green shadow

in every canoe slumbering
in soft reeds on the lake --

I will trample uphill, over the gashed and cracked
skin of the mountain -- over bull snake
and scorpion stones --

I will use my eyes to scour the land like this raven
-- already I can hear the boy's laughter
and rocks skipping
off the top of rocks

§ § §

Michael Spring lives in Corvallis, OR. He is currently looking for rural property and ready to get muddy and build a house with cob. But surrealism, hypersurrealism and abstract expressionism will always cling to his mind like poison oak does to his skin.

His poems have recently been published or are forthcoming in Atlanta Review, Midwest Quarterly, Literary Potpourri (on-line), Chiron Review, Black Bear Review, Main Street Rag, m.a.g and Painted Moon Quarterly (on-line). His chapbook, "Edge of Blue," is currently seeking more readers (publisher can be reached at: Siskipress@cs.com).

You can reach him at Bluecrow04@cs.com .

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