Taking stock
I walk to survey the water
which I can never read
at home with my wife and clock
I count my money
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Bookworm
my old clutter of books
strata from the burial of a grove
telling me how to fall
and in which hard bed
Proofreading
sitting on the cold stairs
I read over it again
with my left eye
Rock dove
seeing people flock in the city
on the leaden street
I wheel above
in all that nothing
clear of sign or chant
but to a child
Insider
doors, forgive me
for having a house
who likes to need
such a common evil
for quiet or content in the rain
a rain that tends to sing well
and eat nothing at all
Theotokos
things turn in my mind
doubt will operate as water
for something iron
but what passed last night
can I be with child
what can I be making
that might know me
Out walking
in the woods I found
good company
everyone was absent as a drunk
present as an old sign
I spoke one word
and away home
Cutting back
where in the geography
of busy people’s prayers
to find ease
I shall continue saving time
that self-razor
Self-abnegation
to live sufficiently
is to have nothing to find
myself in
I will not see in any theater
a play better than what
I let be
Introspectator
there is a map of my mind
I resolve to find myself on it
but no second thoughts
my coffee is an empire
my car the very end
of the world that I know
Review
if I should die I shall use it
as an ordinary window
seeing the boys playing
in our back yard
on a pleasant evening
at the beginning of a quarrel
Close call
too much dull freight
will make people think like horses
I play to play
but how near I was to have broken
like the loss of words
to a shut pen
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