Microcosmic
visions like whole books
a history of land
a history of light
where all things end in a green garden
and some cherries
my wife lying with me
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Bygone
I was a rose
or something else loose
and a little over
the morning paper
talk of sin
Walking it off
to argue mightily with little reason
I pretend to know
whether I do or not
a word too low to hear
went forth with me into the woods
like a cool furniture of air
Marsh
rainy day—
a rough reed touching
all the wind
Encampment
door awakening
like a new mouth
a couple of pigeons come close
finding the box too bold
venturing to drink and eat by it
Self-care
I look after
all morning the one
I am at night
Reorganization
is my office my work
I lose the door
place my books in order
let the night be a strange ink
building other things
out of my thoughts
The Catch
We were playing hide-&-seek. At the last moment,
I dove under a black rubberized tarp
that had been lying out back for several months.
I heard her finish the count & come looking,
rounding the corner of the house on rapid feet.
The tarp rustled from my heavy breathing.
A beetle made a racket
burrowing out from under from my right ear,
which was pressed against the ground.
She ran past, the beetle wiggled free
& everything grew still.
After a while, I heard the approach of slow footfalls.
This time, I held my breath as if
my life depended on it. The steps came up
to the edge of the tarp & stopped.
“Nobody under there,” I heard her say.
Circumscribed
I have seen a ship in a well
and a compass in bed
what will become of all my promise
in a quiet life
Sunrise
morning amber
some private order for
a public sun
At the shore
holiday
like water in the hand
going to sea
my thoughts still running
on my money
Raiment
I dress myself against the sun
go to listen to the gale
I publish lies but hope to be
just a little conceited
I dress myself for the dust
that great garden of a bed
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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