Inspiration
The ships were satisfied by wind
and I by a book.
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Birds on a wire
Starlings land
above me, greater
than my aches,
and mew.
Resident
I have nothing here that is mine.
I have room.
I have the sea.
What news
Morning air pleases me,
and water at night.
I am out of dirt and trouble
now that I am become negligent
as to matters of news.
Ask another.
Listen
No purse, the ear
will know
what to do.
Sometimes at sea,
a great loss
would go away on the wind
in the quiet of things.
Watermen
between fast and feast
foul weather fair weather
between here and where
the river
we went into it with resolve
as into a great ore
Landlocked
The business of the town
is going to sea, which
it pleased God to lay out
in the absence of wine
or ships, a lead foot
setting forth for France
and a mind to stay longer
before they go.
Against certainty
An ill fit for the church
of mathematics am I.
Show me what is lost by doubt
or a long-desired night.
Enclosure
The contrivance
of the door—square
and blind—and behind
the door the air
of office or lodgings
take a view of desire
and turn it into order,
which is so bitter
a house.
House of the Rising Sun
Morning is a clear house,
afternoon a wardrobe.
At supper, I looked over
what I took to be Susan,
but it proved to be me.
Graying
I accept gray hair,
in which I am finding
my father and my work:
this is the last
lost ice, all
my accounts.
Object
at noon a piece of meat
at night a mouth
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