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
Steve,
ReplyDeleteI 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
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. . . .
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