New Occidental Poetry


He moved home
for a while
beginning in winter.
Eternity is the same
if it exists. If
time, always time.
The mother took him
to see family graves
one late afternoon
in steel August.
The grandfather
in the ground.
He took a photo
of a nearby plot;
three snowgum trunks
billowing from
the grave head
like a trident,
grey spirals of leaves,
bark, observant dead
and thought for precisely
no reason
of the year before
and those young men
on mission holding forth
at the peak of the Sun
pyramid at Teotihuacan.

-Nathaniel Lucas

Arthur Powell