Kevin McIlvoy
Inaugural
I want you to know,
the dome is 307 feet high,
135 feet in diameter.
The structure contains
4000 tons of iron that flexes
during atmospheric change—
in the way of a
lily unfolding counter-
clockwise as it lifts—
in the way of a
mother reaching up
for her treed child—
in the way of a
branch holding you out
wild toward the cold—
in the way of a
swallowtail’s wings
fluttering while nectaring—
in the way of the
oaken bucket rocking on
and sinking into well water—
in the well dug near
the oak tree swelling larger
for over 600 seasons—
in the way of the
granite that is the bedrock of
of our dimmed blue world.
I want you to know,
granite is many
times thicker than the
combined thickness of
all other rock—and
has never been a
portion of human
or vegetal or
animal material.
Struck by lightning,
granite makes the sound
of cannon-echo—
of beliefs, of fears
drummed from forested banks
by wandering river-dwellers.
It is the parent rock
I want you to know.
Granite is the parent rock.
The eroded steps home
are slick in this rain.
Take it—take my hand.
—Submitted on 11/19/2020
Kevin McIlvoy is the author of At the Gate of All Wonder (Tupelo Press, 2018), 57 Octaves Below Middle C (Four Way Books, 2017), The Complete History of New Mexico (Graywolf Press, 2005), Hyssop (TriQuarterly, 1998), Little Peg (Atheneum, 1991), The Fifth Station (Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, 1987), and A Waltz (Lynx House, 1981). He teaches in the low-residency MFA program at Warren Wilson College, and lives near Asheville, NC.
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