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.