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Among the Unawake poems from the Great Plains by Rodney Nelson

W a i t

I cannot do anything but wait as I wait
cannot look at photos of a naked Mexico
in a magazine or write to anyone in
Manitowoc or toy with my radio until
I hear Luciano Berio
wait is to watch
and spring that has arrived in the light may not make it
to the ground unless I am on duty at the
watch is to wait
even in the night at night
most of all when so few are attuned to what might
come down anytime
wait is to wake
and I can move
then be a wakeman do it singing afoot to
note the hour and be listening to the chilly
dark until I hear a night bird’s note of reply
wake is to wait
that spring may come to earth at watchcry


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