first fruits.

over-ripe cherries on the floor, july 2008

first fruits

one)

wish i could tell you
how the land fills me: the
space between the branches & the
& the crumbling cliffbanks, pale
birch arms & the blue gesture
of your gaze, double-fruited
branches to our mouths:
(стояла вішня над водою)

how this decreates you
into a honeyed green haze of
leaf & light: the silty hum of
thunderstorm a waxy blossom
caught in the crisp polyphony

of grasshoppers,

(вишня стояла, свічка палала),

a singing bowl of gold-red cherries

in my hands.

let me feed you the first
fruits of summer communion,
cherry juice dripping through a
jungle of freckles on my arms,
(свічка палала, іскра упала!) our
rosepetal tongues separate bright
flesh from the stone: spitted pits

between our kisses
fall fecund in the rivery silt:
(іскра упала, річенька стала)
& they set root there in the sand
where you & i, we’re waiting
for some sort of transfiguration,
to become the sweetest saplings
of next spring

* * *

* the ukrainian bits come from a folksong that talks about the creation of the world. in the beginning there a cherry tree stood over the water, it burned like a candle & a spark fell to earth, creating a little rivulet. later in the song, god bathes in the water, puts on his robes & wanders up the mountain to dream the earth into being.