If by fool moon or Festival (post-Kerrville
you find yourself on Snake Island among Tarzan and o so many Janes
you may ask -why "SNAKE"island...?
and you will be told there ARE snakes-
but only elementary schoolchildren can see them
When,on nature excursion,they stare open mouthed
at a huge fat snake sunning itself across their walking path
White white heron circle around midnight campfires
and songs are struck like tents of stories
and folk share laughter around a fake fire
In these times,harmonies arise
They sing to star skies
they enchant moons over waters
They put-put from a Youth Hostel jetty
as primitive as Amazon in the midst of Austin
with the bright lights of a defunct power plant
wasting electricity to compete with this night
This is when you may notice the silence-
a sound of waters lapping away at this island
You may camp overnight dreaming of invisible snakes
or hitch a ride home with musicians/alone
or in the company of friends.These stories never end
like dreams of invisible snakes curled around fake fires
on an island where silence is a song
and the night blinks stars more than landing aircraft
Traffic noise can wait until you land again
When they ask you where you have been on this only evening
you may try to explain in a poem or song-but Zen
You smile-because I've tried-and failed again!
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