This poem is in tribute to Jim Harrison, poet/novelist, who passed away March 26, 2016.
“There is a human wildness held beneath the skin
that finds all barriers brutishly unbearable.”
-Jim Harrison, from “Arts”
Songs of Unreason
Upon the Death of Jim Harrison
Released. You are released to light whispers
and moonlight rivers.
Your poems high-scavenging words from eagle aeries
and young feather-down lines the canyon crags of your face.
Primitive man, you explored the river flood and flux
against the mountainside stone faces with deft
landscape scribbles and with the intention of horses,
insects and dogs. Read to me the melody of your poems – I’m listening
to the cows and darkness, your non-lament
about youth and death
an observer of cycles or pain, as big as the
universe shock of a cigarette scar,
tiny to your brain and soft like trout and pine needles
about beautiful ugly mothers and eggs
but always returning to the river.
Always returning to the river,
you are released.
Poem by Jen May copyright 2016