God’s House
The expedition left the Louisville, Kentucky, area near the Falls of the Ohio on October 26, 1803.
When we first left Kentucke
the trees had commenced to dressing up
the fall harvest an the garden
was already full a pumpkins an squash.
Massa Clark didn’t ask me to go on no expedition.
He just say “pack” an pointed to the door.
So I gather up what little I got an more than I can carry a his
an head off to a sail-bearing keelboat
where his friend Massa Lewis is waiting.
That boat was so big
you could lay any ten a the sixteen mens on board
or eight a me head to toe an still have enough
room for the dog.
We start out on the Ohio an swing up the old man a rivers
When we gets to the mouth a the dark woman
they calls the Big Muddy
we sets up winter camp a good canoe ride from Saint Louie.
That spring when the rains come we cross the Mississippi
an commence to climbing the M’soura
an float right up through heaven on earth.
More sky than I ever seen, rocks as pretty as trees
an game so plentiful they come right down to the river bank
an invites they selves to dinner.
Now, I ain’t what you would call
a scripture quoter, but the first time
I seen the water fall at M’soura,
felt a herd a buffalo stampede
an looked down from top
a Rock Mountains, it was like church.
An where else but God’s house can a body servant
big as me, carry a rifle, hatchet ana bone handle knife
so sharp it can peel the black off a lump a coal
an the white man
still close his eyes an feel safe, at night?
Notes:
“God’s House” is reprinted from Buffalo Dance: The Journey of York (Accents Publishing, 2022) and is part of the folio “Frank X Walker: Kinfolk.” Read the rest of the folio in the January/February 2026 issue of Poetry.
Source: Poetry (January/February 2026)