In the Summer of My Fifty-Seventh Year

A poem for America

Fire above Kihei, Aug. 8, 2023 (Kahunapule Michael Johnson).

In the Summer of My Fifty-Seventh Year

There is nothing the matter with speech
Just because it lent itself
To my uses
                    —  W.S. Merwin 

For years I had it wrong 
that line, quoting it to friends 
as “There is nothing wrong 
with language, I suppose, 
just because it lent itself 
to my uses.” Eventually, 
recognizing my error,
I persisted, believing my 
misreading to be, if not
better, more encompassing. 
Now, in the summer of my 
fifty-seventh year, with Maui 
burning and Merwin four years 
gone, I almost understand:
The iris says nothing and is innocent.