A preacher’s hands, faded from dust and copper.
An orator’s trade loud with the sounds of rustling hearts.
“Let you love now…
For you knew not love before.
If you love now.
“For love is never doomed to be mourned.”
At last minute a word is waiting
not heard that way before and not to be repeated or ever be remembered
one that always had been a household word
used in speaking of the ordinary everyday recurrences of living
not newly chosen or long considered
or a matter for comment afterward
who would have thought it was the one
saying itself from the beginning through
all its uses and circumstances to utter at last that meaning of its own
for which it had long been the only word
though it seems now that any word would do
w.s. merwin 1927-2019/R.I.P.
On the turf, a coconut Slush puppy.
Receding from any new insults.
Melting with no specific rhythm…no sound.
Leaving in its aftermath…
summer’s last attempt of spreading debris at the base of a hump back tree.
Plastic Nation…this is it.
This is what we die for.
More, more, more.
Where Will Your Plastic Trash Go Now That China Doesn’t Want It?
In Mother’s Nature…
She keeps me gentle
She keeps me sapient
She keeps me legitimate
She keeps me with timeless tests
She keeps me with flesh
She keeps me with dignity
She keeps me shady
She keeps me with chemistry
She keeps me with fragile, breakable reverie
She keeps me
And, I am kept.
…a most indulgent mother, has placed her best gifts out in the open, like air, water and the earth itself; vain and unprofitable things she has hidden away in remote places.
Placing a lid on every little thing –
Had this been what I have been waiting for?
Tans and brown…earth’s tone… in a tussle with last fall’s harvest…blowing, blowing, away.
Rock bed thirsty for nourishment’s flow.
god’s Third Eye could not see the creation that I hear.
Swallows and finches all singing for their pride.
Fringe elements at play when spring and winter collide.
To steal away from our barns…untended?
To tuck away the surface of things?
To forsake seasons in the midst of battle?
Only a January joke.