Here, then, is our first video-collaboration inspired by the
visual wonder and moving fate of another member of the salamander world, the
Spotted — a local
species we've ritually walked to witness mating in our flashlight beam, on those first warm nights of February rain, in a neighbor’s temporary pond.
species we've ritually walked to witness mating in our flashlight beam, on those first warm nights of February rain, in a neighbor’s temporary pond.
We Find a Spotted Salamander, Drowned . . .
Before you praise
Spring’s advent note
What capers the mad
wind may cut:
To cast the flowers to
the waves
And
overturn the fishing boat.
— Tu Fu
We find a spotted
salamander
drowned
in violent storm the
night before,
tail stiffly poking
from its matted bier of
risen silt
and weed.
Odd surprise to spot
her rubbery coldness—there:
in
the vernal pool
we walk to on spring evenings
to observe new life.
Now rake
its bloated corpse to pondside
with a fallen branch
through sable sheets
of floating scum — in the twilit
glimmer of the
stirred-up pond —
to probe its fate
more closely. Amazed
by the luminous stream
of eggs
still oozing
from her birth canal
and clustered round her limp
back
legs and slate-blue tail,
like perseids
bejeweling the
numbed heavens
after chaos.
*An
earlier version appeared in Dimming
Radiance: Poems and Prose Parables
[Wind Publications,
2008] // The
present version is forthcoming in Back to
the Source:
Selected Poems & Parables (1980-2013) [