An Ark For Lawrence Durrell
Robert Duncan


If we are to cross the barriers of snow
into the cave-home of our childhood, dark
among darkend lights, tellings our beads,
if we are to cross over the wheel of night
and dwell among the roots of sorrow—
let us take with us the fox,
for he is quicker than our sickness;
let us take the cock, for he remembers the day
and leaps for light. And let us take
the white-haird ass who is gentle
and bows his head.

The snake has his own way among us.