Bartram's Travels

American Poetry Review, The, May/Jun 2005 by Revell, Donald

Having dined at the ferry, I crossed the river into Georgia . . .

-William Bartram

Thus, sweet yellow

Jessamine,

A decent life

In the woods and

The white dust

Such little hair,

So light a crown

Saint Joan will be there

When the fire has died

And the river crossing

Is all but behind us.

We shall be young trees again

Driven by dying into late

Summer blossom,

Whiteness coolly clustered

On the scorched branches

That show no signs of burn.