fall, do
through hot wet air
we wait for you
listless, a body
accustomed to itself
sweet, cool the sweat
gentle land the sheet
beneath a sun not new
grace ages
acquaints itself
propositions
fall, do
with longness of breath
we want for you
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April is the cruellest month.
15 hours ago
4 comments:
A poem post is such a nice gift, it is something to come back to and read again and again.
I was inspired after I read news of the Library of Congress appointment of Kay Ryan as the 2008-09 Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry. Her stuff reminds me of Dickinson. I wasn't going for that, though -- it was just a nice day verging on autumn.
I like the dew fall connection, and imagine a mountain morning with queen annes' lace and the leaves just turning. And then the sun propositioning fall, and the longing longness of breath running into want - so very nice.
Well I think you almost just wrote a little poem yourself! :)
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