Friday, January 31, 2014

You’re as quiet


You’re as quiet as those spots
on the window

as if light
were sound

and I were somewhere else
when night comes

running
down



Canvas 354



Canvas 354

January 31, 2014


[click to enlarge]




Thursday, January 30, 2014

Mrs. Leicester and Don Quixote




Mrs. Leicester and Don Quixote





The Female Poets of Great Britain
Chronologically Arranged and with Copious Selections
and Critical Remarks

by Frederic Rowton


A facsimile of the 1853 edition with a critical introduction
and bibliographical appendices

by Marilyn L. Williamson




Canvas 353



Canvas 353

January 30, 2014


[click to enlarge]




Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Canvas 352



Canvas 352

January 29, 2014


[click to enlarge]




The day they find


And then the day they find
letters on bone,

and wonder
at this race now gone,

whose very ink
was blood.



Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Fingers and toes


What children know
of fingers and toes

a season in a breath

a prayer

just long enough to grow old


Monday, January 27, 2014

How strange the lace


How strange — the lace, the hair,
the sweat upon her neck,

her scent, her demanding, yielding air,
the daring play of feints parried

and exchanged — that she’d confide in me
her end, and what she meant

by smiling, saying,

Yes?



Sunday, January 26, 2014

Far from Belgium


He placed the chocolate
on his tongue

far from Belgium

horses, riders, dark forests,
the glory of being

lost

and helped her
help him
down

from where he hung

her wings,

his resurrection.



Saturday, January 25, 2014

It won’t happen


It won’t happen : can’t : yet something else
will : just like the moment that brought you here :
in mind of that : I confess : I still do : wish .



Friday, January 24, 2014

The absence of bells


Have you noticed
the absence of bells?

church

school

sleigh

and have you noticed
others not noticing?

and have you wondered
which is the greater tragedy?



Thursday, January 23, 2014

And came the day


And came the day,
like that sweet consciousness
of a child no longer ill.



Wednesday, January 22, 2014

As dear as light


As dear as light,
joy plies its source

as craft to sea
when flight

is dark.



Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Monday, January 20, 2014

A word, pale ’neath its bloom


A word, pale ’neath its bloom,
shy as the girl he knew, said aloud,
when the moon was out, on the grass in dew,
near a stone as grew the girl’s name upon —

to tell it now, of how it burned his tongue,
is all we care to show — the word,
pale ’neath its bloom, and how
the girl, and he, are gone.



Sunday, January 19, 2014

As off from naked limb


As off from naked limb,
this hymn of vast imagining
to take our breath away;

And off from naked limb,
this quest of vast imagining
to take our hymn away.



Saturday, January 18, 2014

A fairy tale


A fairy tale, eccentric in its demands, heedless of its bounds, true to gentle need, the girls at tea, the boys in solemn stillness at their feet — such the day portends, for this monster is a friend — and then we see him in the street — and how we pity him when he hides his face from shop windows, and peeks between his thumbs — and how we weep is what becomes of him, and us — who is above such a tale? who, beyond all paltry busyness, does not sorrow for the winter sun?



Friday, January 17, 2014

In the language


What joy it is to meet in the language, in page and street, to trade in words older than ourselves, strange, familiar, sweet, such coin of the realm as lives and breathes, and ever seeks to greet someone.



Thursday, January 16, 2014

The past is a city


You must know, memory continues in its own course,
and in its own sphere, as real and independent as any moment here,
and as delicious, too, in its very dream, that, the dreamer,
once departed, ever tends those places
she loves and knows best,
even as they lay
at rest.

The past is a city,
teeming with characters she loves;
instruments of painful learning, she gathers around her
as the story unfolds; and it is never the same
twice-told, but that it gains
from a telling no one
knows.

The past is imagined by someone eerily like herself,
with a sense of humor she has learned to share;
a friend, who pulses like a river in her hand,
who lives, and dies, and lives again,
the same as she’s becoming
what she’s been.

The past is the stone thrown in,
and what happens to her reflection
is what the river gives,
as much where
as when or
was as
is.



Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Sure as the north wind


Sure as the north wind

as a widow’s
last dress

as I confess

is swept
away

again

such
caress

as death
heeds love

to its depth my friend



Monday, January 13, 2014

As many hounds


As many hounds as could squeeze in — friendly, agreeable hounds, of whitish-tan persuasion and loving the water — so eager to be first to the chase; and then at once they were off and out and dripping on the bank, where they were called to halt by their kindly master; who, taking one by the neck, different from the others, shaggy and brown with a heavily whiskered, almost human face, addressed the animal with such affection that all the others were glad — when, all of a sudden, the scene changed, and I was standing beside an orange tree behind my childhood home, and the orange tree was laden with bright-ripe fruit, and had grown to at least twice its former size — such was my joy, and so my joy remains.



Sunday, January 12, 2014

Saturday, January 11, 2014

The rain as it greatens


The rain
as it greatens
lessons

lessons be
her train

the man
as he hatens
lessens

lessens he
refrain

the same
as he hastens
blessens

blessens
will remain



Friday, January 10, 2014

A voice, the night


A voice
the night

bright stars
a hand

:

the years

:

so soft

:

as softly as they can

.

The dream
a light

as far
is near

:

the kiss

:

so long

:

as long as you are here

.



Canvas 348



Canvas 348

January 10, 2014


[click to enlarge]




Thursday, January 9, 2014

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

A leaf, a palm


A leaf
:
a palm
:
alight
:
then gone
.

A grief
:
a calm
:
a light
:
a song
.



Tuesday, January 7, 2014

That would be the way


That would be the way,
wouldn’t it,

deep in a solemn grove,
thunder upon us,

memory fresh
in scent,

you, returned,
you, risen,

you, taken by surprise
when lightning

strikes
the earth,

is there anything,
stranger,

than these treacherous,
blessed letters

from home,

anything, that is made,

of greater worth?



Wednesday, January 1, 2014