Jonah of my Childhood

Somewhere in the involuted breeze

bright fish were caught.

I sought out

the brightest one.

From his throat liquid landscapes issued,

round apple trees

and on them rounded apples,

a rounder sun

and a house with its chimney smoking.

A winding road dug around hills

and where it narrowed

I stepped forth in a rain of hawks

and a dew of toads.