Michael H. Levin: Poems and Prose
AMONG QIN WARRIORS
(their clay brigade; National Geographic Museum, 2010)
About them strange quiet
muffled as snow. Hard-eyed,
hard-handed, they gaze towards
horizons past -- topknots, quilt jackets
two thousand years in earth
in ground not of it; on watch.
Still you can hear their picket fires
the nicker of that high-necked horse;
a rasp of bronze; cooks’ slap-paddled
preparation of cold predawn meals.
Again, the dragons’ teeth; again
an armored army rising from
plowed soil to feathered drums. Is that
the root of their hypnotic spell,
those soft beats pulsing back to Greece?
or that an ancient presence waits –
a patient, alien, stone-faced East?
The Federal Poet (Vol. LXXI, No. 2), Fall 2013