The Cuyahoga River
has its U-turn blazed
just before Akron
by its northern tip
where a gorge cuts
deeply through
down into the valley
that goes unto Cleveland.
And through those slopes
are furrowed narrow gullies
with winding dear trails
and leaves-bejeweled brooks.
And you know as you walk
out there that something ancient
had been buried on the inside
of those sandstone rocks
and that we, and strangely
so many Suchans out of Europe,
have been flocking here
like human Phoenixes recalled
back to their dragon nests.
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