Friday, March 25, 2011

At the Storm Door

It's all about sorting buttons. I made this photo at
The Knopenwinkle in Amsterdam.

At the Storm Door

I wanted to live in a fast language,
words as unambiguous as rain.
I have, instead, these foggy hours,
twilights designed 
This week
Poetry Friday is at A Year of Reading
to predispose me to eventuality.

Skim light here
and almost gone.
The heat spins away after
into some deep space that physics persuades
to have a longing greater than my own.
And the bells on the cattle
in the meadow over the hill
ring like the apples on a branch.

- - -

There are times when I struggle while indexing. My job is to determine what a passage, a sentence, a page of writing is about. To name it and move on.

Poetry and indexing share some attributes: An interest in concision, a ragged line length, formal structure. But a thing that they share most deeply is the struggle to name it and move on.

- - -
You might visit A Year of Reading today. You will find Mary Lee Hahn's poem
Wild Atrocity
It is pretty fine stuff. From there, you can leap out and visit other poets too. 

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