This poem is called "Equinox."
And I wrote it, or at least started the notes of it.
I was outside in Michigan, where Hannah is going,
and it's going to be really cold up there.
While I was waiting to be picked up for a reading.
And I want to say, Mvto, which is thank you
in Muskogee language.
And thank you for--
muchas gracias for all of those who in all the readings
all over the country, who pick us up.
Come and pick us up, take us places, talk to us,
bring us snacks, tell us good stories, are patient with us,
and are what we need.
So that's really an important part, it all is.
So I was standing there waiting to be picked up
and I was watching the sun go down during an equinox period
and I was thinking, we really are all in the ceremony
together.
At sunset, it's a good time to let things go and say, Oh, man,
I shouldn't have said that today.
Or I'm carrying this burden with me.
And it's that kind of energy, the sun is moving away,
and it's kind of giving away, so it's
a good time to let things go, which
is kind of what this poem is.
And at the same time, at sunrise,
that's why when I was younger and I still
liked to be around people who know things,
but so many of them are gone.
But almost all of the ones that I was around
would get up at sunrise.
You get up because you catch the light.
And it's even scientific.
It hits at a certain angle and opens.
And with that light, it's a blessing light.
With your words, you can bless your friends, family,
the Earth, you can give it back.
And we all need help through the day maneuvering through.
Then we're all in it together.
There's sunrise, here we all are.
We all move through it together.
I must keep from breaking into the story by force.
If I do, I will find a war club in my hand.
And the smoke of grief staggering toward the sun.
Your nation dead beside you.
I keep walking away, though it has been an eternity.
And from each drop of blood springs up sons and daughters
and trees, a mountain of sorrows of songs.
I tell you this from the dusk of a small city in the North,
not far from the birthplace of cars and industry.
Geese are returning to mate and crocuses have broken
through the frozen earth.
Soon they will come for me, and I will make my stand
before the jury of destiny.
Yes, I will answer in the clutter of the new world.
I have broken my addiction to war and desire.
Yes, I will reply.
I have buried the dead and made songs of the blood, the marrow.