Jason Ford

The corona is clearest
When the moon intercedes
And spot-lights us in shadow

Revealing ribbons of fire
Uncoiling for miles in the sky
Nothing like the triangles

We glued to elementary suns
Shining over freehand houses
And uncut lawns

Twice a year the orbits
And axes align just right
For the dragon to swallow the sun

Petals begin to close
Startled bats take flight
In the ethereal light

These days computers
Predict the earthly path
Reducing Mayan wonder to math

But suppose the Moai
All tilted their heads together
Then told us what it really means

Could we hear stone tongues?

Return to Fall 2010 Table of Contents