Furies we bid follow the small puffs

of woodland smoke,

In a place where cottony clouds give rides

in the absence of magic carpets.

I picked up some stems to weave you

a shawl of changing colors-

You hid a face that wanted to cry at these

unsuspecting moments.

But until the earthy smell I dream that you

were born with leaves you,

Like a hunting hound does, I seem to do,

and I'll follow them as

They follow you. Past dales of wicker trickery,

over the next hill or even

In my memory. Even as a whimsical bidding of

single purpose snakes

Its cold squeezes through the intentions that

always get away from me,

Will I remember what I started out hoping

to have happen?

Or, will those furies that bedevil and move

the springs that share their

Wet — and nourish the goose-bumps on your

skin that I play connect the dots

With — will they find me before I find you?

In a lighted place with pillars lining and

cherubic tunes piped from

An aerie, you and I from there twine

your chestnut main into a

Lifeline. Then, as now, a braid will anchor

our wrists and umbilical our fever.

Rights & Access

This poem was submitted for the "Poetry for the Mind's Joy" project and is reproduced here with permission from the author. All rights reserved. Poetry for the Mind's Joy is Poet Laureate Kay Ryan's project that includes a community college poetry contest administered by the Community College Humanities Association and a lively videoconference.
  • J. Scott Conyer

    Ivy Tech Community College, Bloomington Campus, Bloomington, IN

    Faculty Advisor: Christine Brandel, Assistant Professor, English Department