Bird lover
how sorry is the wolf
to eat a wing
a wolf hard as the mind
to do something with
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Rooted
night-colored oak
lush as a suit
my life in amber
is greater than I am
and poor beyond all
I ever overcome
Art world
morning comes out
in the best art
no ring to own or business
to busy up
Scavenger
a raven on the road
studious in the business of decay
the secret to life is being
no use at all
Convalescent
out in the garden
I cannot help the bug
in my stomach
Arctic
white bear
in the evening
we get small
Return of the native
all out of promise
a rare bee spent
the afternoon being
my mind coming to itself
Under the sign of Janus
The way the snow returns to the sky
is far more painstaking than the way it falls.
Near the end, it turns from ground to figure,
from canvas to paint. It scales the ladder
of its own self-effacement.
So the snow withdrew into a clef-shaped cleft
& waited for its cue. This winter could go
either way.
The witch hazel measured itself against an oak.
I want to be a tree, it sang, when I grow up –
A bird perch,
An insect metropolis,
A gallery of lichens above,
And below, a husband to fungi.
True, I am all these things already,
But not as a tree.
Allowance
laying out clothes
I stand looking
at this day’s money
dry as rust
Grownups
no other money no other time
to make use of all alone
my wife tells me she thinks
she is with child
flinging off my hat
I sit with the wind
Sketchy
to draw a picture I take pains
to observe more than before
ink all in a fresh light
with perspective to delude one’s eye
it would make a man doubt
that ever he saw anything
The unexamined life
a question sore as a scar
would go to a good grave
not send a letter to hope
here lies the moon
great as a clock
telling pretty stories
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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