For an Older Poet

On the white desert the small signalling begins.

Great cannoneer, master of fireworks, allow

this rack of miniatures, these dud-chambered pieces

their rattle and ping, the sidearm chatouillage

of backyard sparklers in a tin-whistle offering

(falconer, archer) to the untrammeled boom,

that wide report and distant accuracy, take

thin smoke, as the old gods once took,

wandering in the wild air from ashes,

mounting, dispersing in tribute;

sniff, and be generous.

Thunderer, pickpocket, faker, monger of silences,

(anarch, deviser) now preside with kindness

over the antics here of hesitation, the jaywalking

ramble and stammer of youth; be generous,

take prayer with praises: mystify, continue.