Canal walk
morning swan
my old acquaintance
vexed at me
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Keeping on
the morning after
we close accounts
alone I find
an even walk
Certitude
nothing could be invented
more than an answer
that little garden
forced to lie in beds
Diurnal
off and on
home and office
busy till night met my eyes
Facial recognition
feel how soft
is the face
and by and by
how hard it becomes
you cannot break it
you cannot bear to see it
better to let it alone
eat dry toast with good wine
and by and by
how late it is
Divinity school
pleasure turned divine
I forgot I am water
ache in a devout way
and preach against smiling
so I own my days
of sadness and mirth
unable to forget a passion
soft as any night
Occupation
busy sitting
all morning
I am summoned
by a song
my eyes too out of tune
to look up
Up late
a room with a song
night work
against tomorrow
Houseplants in the garden
The houseplants sit awkwardly in the garden,
like tourists at some raffish foreign port.
A gust of wind is enough to tip them over
in their ceramic pots.
It rains,
& they hardly know how to drip.
Insects avoid their glossy, odorless leaves.
After dark, under the stars,
they are the only things still shining.
They send up flower stalks
one week before the frost.
What feeds us
my other selves
hate the leopard
silencing them all
to walk in cold weather
ice having laid
the cloth for dinner
The last shall be first
suppose one evening
the world ends
like a sweet
which I now possess
from the backwardness
of I know not what god
as far as my eyes
will give me leave
Noise cancelling
the morning din
is lean company
with the mist gone
too far
to change things
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