A sudden atmosphere
like some early evening revealed
so we may know
the voice and the meaning behind it.
And I do not know if every word
hides or clarifies this jungle of waves
or this darkness is just a feeling
in the movement of my own.
Or that the truer story
is built in a nice restaurant
with expanding umbrellas
on the different sand
in our toes and under our feet
the same as love.
like some early evening revealed
so we may know
the voice and the meaning behind it.
And I do not know if every word
hides or clarifies this jungle of waves
or this darkness is just a feeling
in the movement of my own.
Or that the truer story
is built in a nice restaurant
with expanding umbrellas
on the different sand
in our toes and under our feet
the same as love.
1 comment:
A poem of yours I just found from a very old letter:
To a drowned boy and his mother I knew
Under the acorn oak-leaf covers
the blue flower and watered gardens
around the deep unending paddler sea
of being a boy in its subumerged infinity.
The wheels and weaving shoelace
the shore-wood dresser of otter brown
petals of blue swallows
A pact the absent have with long.
These darlings do not drown..
If only his shoulders did not hang as
a fallen branch or his shoes
blend with the color of bottom leaves
If only he could throw back some sea.
And his mother, in her blind own age
as I knew her still looking into
a solitary gaze of a boy she loved so,
and listening to the one last voice,
the earth has fallen away
The earth has fallen,
the earth has fallen away
from me.
--
hope all is well with you. cp
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