Six Ghazals by Estill Pollock
  1. Road

  2. The Romans made roads here, renamed sky
    this blue Imperium, proclaimed: Sky.

    Stone quarried, hauled cart miles across waste
    land the width of Caesar's surnamed sky.

    A road for armies, garrison route:
    Londinium—London's nicknamed sky.

    Old hands learned Latin, household gods plumped
    on almond paste and Caesar's tamed sky.

    Pilgrim, I came with others, cold coin
    and no tomorrows: wished stars, blamed sky.

  3. Falling

  4. In the field, snapped remains brace low clouds,
    half-turned crop spoiled wet by Giotto clouds.

    Last back to 1916, this war:
    canvas, buckled struts, El Greco clouds.

    Ash pilot, ash blown, flies, this fly boy
    invites mud crust, Canaletto clouds.

    This simple thing, arm's length, bullet
    shaped, this lie, quit Tintoretto clouds.

    The furrows open. Weather, antique,
    shows sleep past pilgrim, Picasso clouds.

  5. Raw

  6. Call it something, made muscle, turn this
    until bones bind, a tongue to learn this.

    Sought palm maps, DNA plug and stitch,
    ancestor twisting to discern this.

    Here retina, reed-focus sharp then
    weapons, red kill stripped bare to earn this.

    How spark, flint struck, striking dry grass shows
    face against dark, shadows that burn this.

    Gather black root, pilgrim. Shook seeds trail
    and take, make world enough to turn this.

  7. Late

  8. Cuba's twilight lingers: shoelace sun.
    Margaritas, guitars chase rat race sun.

    Brass swing fan moves dead air, this slow down
    low down, sweat bead hung marketplace sun.

    Mulatto doorway, fruit punch shirt, sweet
    talk salty African girl-grace sun.

    The radio is speeches, 50s
    samba, no jive, just grilled, heat chase sun.

    Boats lit, easy music scuffs patent
    pumps, barefoot pilgrim, kicks, sway pace sun.

  9. Claim

  10. Man-carcass rats reamed sags to shallows,
    hide, bones, beetle crunch of stew shallows.

    The pitched tent washed away then dry rot
    set the seams, dry gulch, mildew shallows.

    Gold stays, threads stone with this thirst, this rich
    unyielding want shoals sinew shallows.

    He pulled the Colt, pure oxygen, lead
    deciding which depth, which drew shallows.

    Iron pan slurry, femur scree panned out,
    dead-shine, pilgrim, impromptu shallows.

  11. Rise

  12. Now loved, now in this light prove such time,
    wind-tucked, hawkhung work, this clawclutch time.

    Name this place, sand grain opened wider.
    Step through bird's eye soaring, not much time.

    This little lateness speeds, licks aeons.
    Taste time jelly-sugar, sweet touch time.

    Sand course, sea course, inoculate each,
    this journey dune and wave, cure crutch time.

    I miss you everywhere, element
    and shine, grace, pilgrim, this nonesuch time.

To David McElvie's Ghazal. To June 2002 index. To Erin Thomas's Ghazal.