17
the poem
strayed
for
Anne Kellas
responding
to various pieces, and encouraging all to read The
White Room Poems
take
any tiger
go
cliff clock
(a
goat in Blundstones does)
mountain
is up
can
travel with your own clouds
*
is
snow
blank
as the vault
of
falling
?
shovel
it
like
flight
*
then down from the forest
here for a home
when
gone you're with
then the
nothing's again
sermon
is a kind of sleep
all
there is to say
said
*
everything
built
to fall
every
word
a
moment
further from
truth
and
the unsaid's still
won't
even be forgotten
*
in
a monotony of rains how else?
go
soul-lessly
because
there is none
some
of us have never come down
some
of us are up there still
*
says
echo to whom
writing,
look
no words now?
some
birds smaller than you see translate
are
for imagination's sake
*
each
poem a mirror
see
selves there
time
sticks
on
a sunless trail
it's
all of this making away
in
the garden's palette
a swim
(Thank you Kit!!)
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