Mississippi

Light in August is dimmed

by fall rains. The sound and fury

of uncontrollable winds, limbs

falling on hamlets and towns.

These rains, intruders in the dust,

bring mosquitoes to the mansion

where I lay dying, listening

to the requiem for a nun. Faint

memories of  spiritual fable--

Go Down, Moses--structure

a pylon for reivers who would

cry Absalom, Absalom!