Archive for November, 2013

Talking with the Sun

November 19, 2013

It is only a dream of the grass blowing
East against the source of the sun…

It’s always east with you, isn’t it? Hand-made,
manmade, meticulous meadows—marshes
all laid-out so the mind can heed them—
A picture of health—east!—perfect for tuition,
even though intuition knows this at once.
Let imaginary light light the body.
Let it lift and heave the meadow up,
a mountain made by minds, all ours.
This morning geese were large upon the grass.
A russet-red rise, like you, my friend—
but they flew off, east into your eyes.
Yesterday, we found food by scratching where
the vines were. Big white sweet potatoes.
Today we explore the salt hay marsh. Why it glows.

Imaginary Love

November 9, 2013

Her body a graceful flow of light in the forest,
she lets the winter choose her winter clothes.
You stop, but when you try to duplicate
her movements, she shows you that it was you
who was in motion, not her silent poise:
We simply fear the winter night in different ways.

All love is from necessity, and from
this necessity, a spark, a simple fire grows.
To you it looks like the trees are on fire,
but this is your imaginary love—
a concupiscence in the closet,
a coupling in a cupboard—not her dreams.
You have to burn the old poem in your heart,
you think, before a new one can be born.

The View

November 2, 2013


Last year I was putting up pictures  of trees torn by wind and snow. The hurricane damaged this tree–there are many broken branches up there–but it survived.