But I want to say mvto.
That's Muskogee for thank you.
For the staff, an event like this--
I mean, we heard some of the acknowledgment.
But it takes all these people.
And a lot of people moved chairs in here.
And we got to thank the electricity coming up
through here, and incredible staff here.
And Lois Shelton--
I love that the poetry place I'm staying is named for Lois.
I used to have a lot of fun hanging out with Lois,
and I miss her.
And for Pam, who's been taking me around,
for her great introduction.
For Larry Evers, who was always and remains important to me
and has helped so many people moving through this university.
I think of Leslie.
I could hear her words.
We talk about poetry ancestors.
And I wouldn't have been able to write that poem without Leslie.
And so many, and this beautiful place that
always makes me happy to come here.
And to all of you, mvto for this evening.
So I want to close with "Equinox."
And it's really a poem, I suppose, about forgiveness.
And I wrote it, I was thinking about sundown.
I was waiting to be picked up for a gig
somewhere in Michigan, someplace far away.
And, like a lot of the animals, everybody watches the sun.
It's a time of letting go.
The sun is leaving us.
So it's a good time to let things go.
So if you're going over and over about something somebody did
to you, or something you did that you're
having a hard time forgiving yourself,
it's a good time to let those things go.
If we all stood, like the animals,
and watched the sun go down and just said,
OK, let those things go, we would have less illness
among ourselves.
Just like sunrise, it's good to go out.
Even the scientists can tell you,
yeah, there's a lot of power at that place when light comes up
over an edge.
So you gather that and say thank you, and acknowledge the gift
and send that out to help others.
(SINGING) 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 clatter 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.
Mvto.
Thank you.