These Cold Winds (1991)

These cold winds who maul
the orange rows are no angels,
no caul of Jesus or sainted compass,
no brine spray of virgin tears:

These cold winds sing old Seminoles
who fell here in their long descent,
fluting their exile through thier
bones now deep in the aquifer;

These cold winds shadow my brother
as walks down the final shore,
eating his days like a sullen tide,
drowning his words its raging choir:

These cold winds blow contagion
all night through tropic dreams,
freezing the fruit on every bough,
shouting us down each bitter strand.