• Martin Willitts

Martin Willitts, four poems


Transformation

Light changes slowly with subtle words

such as cautious and determinedly,

marking a demarcation line across the horizon,

delineating between day and night

taking over the sky. The drakes in the wetlands

are excited by the transformation.

Above, in daylight, you can see the moon

like a white wafer. Perception only amazes

the participant who never notices

the daily occurrences with minor variations.

What are different are the blending shades,

the clouds wheeling like hawks, the way light

haunches on the edge while day begins or ends.

There is always this anticipation of the differences,

and the end results are that our expectations are met —

not in color, or uncertain times for the transfers,

but in the way no two days begin or end the same.

Thousands of years, the universe has palpitated,

expanded and contracted like a heart,

with such restlessness, and we barely notice

what is plain to the eye: the universe is constant

and changeable. We barely break the surface

of observation and when we do, we take for granted

the drakes will migrate when marshes are ice tinged,

and the drakes will return when spring returns,

never considering it might be otherwise.

Early Warning

Was it steadfast for the apricot

to remain on a tree

and be covered by early snow?

or, was it pound-foolishness,

unawareness of the ashen skies?

The storm plunged in

with suddenness of a hawk.

We get early warnings

and ignore them.

It is not as though danger lurks

behind a mountain range

or can rise up out of nowhere.

A tidal wave always starts somewhere —

a rift in the ocean floor,

tectonic plates shifting, or moon-pull.

A friend of mine lets anger get to him:

his third stent in one year.

I’ve warned him.

He has fissures, his solid refusal to change.

Someday, without warning,

another attack will swoop in.

The "Lily: The yellow of the Columbia" (Fritillaria pudica)

its root must be "the food of the natives"

the yellow fritillary

was collected near the headwaters

of the Missouri River

it grows throughout the Pacific Northwest

in well-drained, dry, sunny sites, and is today

a valued rock garden species

for its nodding,

golden-yellow flowers and its petite habit

it reminded Jefferson of his wife's hand

and her smell

it defied reason

it swelled with the seasons

it haunted him at candlelight

like her

in the oval cameo, in the oval

of a bed

This Topography Is Unexpected As Bitterroot ((Lewisia rediviva)

(State flower of Montana)

1.

Bitterroot can live for more than a year without water

its pink blossoms conspire close to the ground

so it can hear itself called the "resurrection flower"

they can be dried & pressed

then revived after being soaked

you can eat its roots, but seldom raw,

it tastes bitter taste and it resultant swelling

causes great discomfort like childbirth

<