Thursday, December 23, 2010

12.23





light coming into sky above still black

ridge, whiteness of moon above branches

in foreground, sound of wave in channel



center distance, in surface

mark a sense of light



to think about thought, not

thinking, and what is



grey rain cloud against invisible ridge,

whiteness of gull flapping toward point




2 comments:

  1. Steve,

    I hope it won't get you into (too much) trouble with anybody if I go head and state right here, "for the record" like they say, that my favourite poem by a living American poet this year is/was... you guessed it.

    Temporality.

    Every morning of the year I've counted on it (and you) to

    mark a sense of light

    above and beyond my variously endarkened world(s).

    So thanks as well as credit are due.

    Love from A. and me to you & Johnny

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ah, Tom, thanks so much (one never knows if there's a reader out there). . . . Johnny and I sending our love to both of you two, too. . . .

    ReplyDelete