the poem strays into the light
FOUR BOUNDARIES
1.
Bloom breaks again all
along the greening
branches, bitter plum, apple
the fuzzed quince we can’t eat
without long fire & stilled
sweetness
The blue pulse
keeps its sharp time.
I turn again in the long garden
book fallen from my hands
2.
Spring’s great wheel
will turn without me
bright hurtling world
hawk-plummeted
Love it for me then
3.
In the rivered days we talked of water
My lips were still dry
When the rains came down
I left the doors open
If I hung mirrors
it was to find you
passing in the moving air
Where my child lay buried
I watched those small flowers
white violets eyelids of waking
4.
I learned to hold the pieces
I learned to throw them away
It doesn’t take much time, my life
When I go down in the orchard
stunned with the breaking flowers
I look to see you clear light
my eyes blind with your sun
(I have been fascinated by the edges of things all my life, and the transitions between things. Where one thing turns to another. This is a poem that has lived in my notebooks a long while--my paper notebooks, that is. Time to let it come to the light for a bit.)
Labels: boundaries, light, poetry
posted by jarvenpa @ 8:06 PM
4 Comments
4 Comments:
"If I hung mirrors..."
This is a treasure of a poem. Thankyou.
This is such good stuff. You are really good at this stuff. Have you published any of your works?
thank you jan and blog queen (whose hat I admire). My poetry has been fairly widely published in journals and such over a long time period, but alas there is not a book or collection out (and it wasn't for lack of trying). Putting it up on my blog feels somewhat like launching little messages in bottles or in balloons; I recall being 9 years old and finding a balloon with a note tied to it; part of a test of wind currents; it was very thrilling.
Thank you for the balloon gift!
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