Farewell   Often the turkey appeared at field’s edge wanting to play soccer; mortally wounded this morning shows me the arrow, bewilderment in his eye.   Klaus who struggled valiantly to avert war has died in a car accident.   The mind will not allow for long, the opposition of life and death; nor, gratefully, permit to stand, the ridiculous assertion of a president: "Either you are with us, or you are against us."   Walls fail in time.   The dead require constant attention — in canyon shadow, a grocery cart at Albertson’s filled with favorite foods, a winter coat. Ordnance on display at a local museum.   Joanna combs the sheep at nightfall. They shake their wooly behinds, shed of Christian decency. A flake for each   of alfalfa cut and baled in violet splendor.
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