errol miller
IN THE SWEET BYE&BYE
Down the hickory hollow from life
there is another alluvial sachet-scented kingdom
similar to Zion as we have imagined it
in good books and from Granny, this is where
they do all their dancing, the mushroom people
who have gone before, we shall
of course meet again in an octagon building
freshly hewn from autumn white-oak
a Cajun fiddler welcoming
those who are born again, in Amish homes
and Charleston's open houses we shall
trace the Catskills down to Dixie
sampling Manhattan on the way
in the amplified faces of our neighbors
we shall sense a sense of place, wandering
down childhood's peaceful pastoral lane
to the classical villa of middle-age
where heavy-metal bands
rev up for Doomsday
in contrast to the slow lullabies
of the 30s and the 40s.