The Ancient Modern
What More From Earth? / Joshua Alan Sturgill
Today, I tasted leaves of wild Yarrow
in the stones of a ruined house.
They were bitter and dry
Stem and leaves of Purslane
along an ancient path.
They were tart and bright
Fruit from a wounded Persimmon
in the forest where a fire raged.
It clung to my teeth,
nutmeg and hazel
Wild strawberry at the mouth
of an abandoned mine. I took
the ripe and left the green
What more from Earth than mint
and thyme and currants, each
in its season? The tart is good
The bitter satisfies
Yet above all taste,
I prefer the fragrance
of the Ponderosa.
From fissures in its jigsaw puzzle skin,
the Ponderosa whispers of a land
where dead have ceased
from dying, where we no longer need
or eat, where sight is touch, where taste
is immortality
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