Ship burial
within the river
is a sweet green night
and a rank day
and people say
there is also a ship
which was fitted to go to the dead
Poems on the topic: river
Poems on the topic “river” on Poets.by.
Someday writer
I saved part of myself in ash
as a wish as a river
to visit the ships and write
a letter to a rose
I had a punishing scruple
like a home of ice
Backward river
years of my life full
of horrid memory
taking me back into the river
that thin nation
all fury and revenge
cruel men never suffer
barbarous as the afternoon office
Riverine
in the wool of the river
I should be profuse
journey anywhere at home
appear duskish
Propitiation
the Dow down
the river is red with light
a late rite
Memorial Service
Can you believe
how many songs have been committed to stone
& none to the water that wears it down?
How many lines get lifted from the surf–
& none from the living ocean?
I was the dead girl who lay in the coffin
with her corona of hair cut short.
I wasn’t listening to that stranger
whose hands held their fire,
whose teeth trapped dust.
But when the women one
by one stood up to testify
I heard the first rumor of rain.
It was as if I’d awakened precipitously
in the night, forehead filled
with mist & the dreams
Child workers
children employed
to supply our flags
dull eyes like organ keys
pressed down
that could not be fixed
to whistle
but otherwise quiet
and will do as bid
the river is a letter
from an unknown hand
Above the river
thoughts wear off
light as thin ice
give no account how matters
stand in the world
how other minds
would loiter on a bridge
Rock art
love used to live
in the presence of the river
red handprint
Cruise ship
on a river in Norway
well lit
the land looking back
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
The River Fleet
Death is walking
up and down
with the watchmaker,
who told me
how a river
I had never seen
was at home in
a great and dirty pipe.
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