James Owens

Charge

No time to think of running, when the bear
Crashes huffing gruh! gruh! gruh! from brush
Just yards away, and angry now speeds up

On open ground, claws gouging clods from the earth.
His shoulders wrench and muscle him at you.
A string of spit whips his red-lined jaw.

And if he swerves to miss you, leaves your heart
Thumping along, by chance in the path to where
He's headed in his deadly rush and growl,

The air will brighten strangely, common birds
Strike up impertinent racket in the weeds.
Around your head the day inhales, alive,

As if a mouth too old to name released you.

Where Troubles Melt

For Frances Gumm

Out of this awkward girl, mostly elbows, knees,
Voice, and too grown for the role, the song keys
Ever upward and on, dulcet harmony and rise,
Resisting still when the clouds darken and fizz,
Thunder and flash, when the twister brays
Hoarse countermusic that corkscrews
Everything from the fields, that trenches and flays,
Ruining, swirling like the dust of all that was.

Against erasure, the held notes devise
Intricate colorings, yellow brick lies
Nudging a green city into shape, the sky's
Bright habitation when gray, flowerless earth dies
Out of this awkward girl, whose music is,
Will remain, a world, a garland, an Oz.