James Krueger | Poem: A Long Arrival Home
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Poem: A Long Arrival Home

Poem: A Long Arrival Home

A Long Arrival Home



Every week I preach a sermon

But only fifteen people come to hear;

Verse after verse, line after line

A thousand written pages remain

Unread beneath the dust;

Year after year my soul

Has become

Countless songs

Which have touched only the ears

Of spiders and kitchen mice.


Travelling to the city

I wonder

Would there not be more companions here

To keep my life’s work

From obscurity and rust?


A long arrival home, and lightning

Plays over the dark hills

Where there is nothing but the evening rain

Where the insects’ August chant

Seems a sermon well beyond

My learning

A poem outstripping my skill; a note too resplendent

To sing.


O happy limitation!

O glory beyond my scope!

O bubble by inadequacy bust!

To be reminded: all ashes

to ashes

To be reminded

All dust to dust!

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