Low tide
oyster out of water
I poke all about
a low way to lay
little thief
together with
the rest-vexed bed
Poems on the topic: water
Poems on the topic “water” on Poets.by.
In Memoriam
such a noble sacrifice the forest made
in its battle with the saw
it deserves no less than a full plantation of stumps
erasers white with chalk
erected in loving forgetfulness
of the blackboard
a stone tossed into still water
always lands in the center of a target
of spreading years
how well we know them then
these unknown dead
Enjoying the journey
going into a box to hide
and fall asleep
is my journey
going to a place
out of place in my cellar
of waters and hands
Bedtime reading
water in a clear spring
like five o’clock eyes
let me read a little more
in night’s book
surprised by what
she will ruin herself for
Hapless
how to mourn people
who have never been happy
unhappiness falling like sleep
over this wild wonder of a body
that nobody prizes
true as water may happen
to be held in flux
Gained in translation
a barrel full of stinking water
on a barge going
to a new ship
I have translated my life in three lines
Aphoristic
water in the road
the rains carry me home
a rose becomes a good answer
to a crooked chimney
Questioning the Water
I filled a glass at the sink,
set it down on the counter
& watched it grow still.
What am I doing here?
I asked the water.
Which way should I go?
What color is sleep?
The water rose from the glass
as well as any genie
though it took its own
sweet time.
Bread & Water
I cast my bread on
the water, but
it didn’t come back.
Did you call?
I wrote. I made tea
from every leaf in
the garden.
Would you know it if
you saw it again?
I would.
I would know it slowly.
I would know it as
a failed boat.
Wasn’t it full
of air pockets, like
a lung? No, those
New theory questions why we sleep
This same screech owl
was trilling at 4:00 p.m.
from across the field.
Water from the tap —
it’s still moving when I drink it.
I trembled like that once, too,
after days without sleep.
I felt invincible.
Gray fur spreads
through the coffee grounds.
I’m bleary-eyed again.
Poem for Display at a City Reservoir
Attention suicides: please have the consideration
to drown elsewhere. It is not that your body
would be especially toxic — that’s a myth.
But what we crave in water is an absence of taste,
not the taste of absence.
Also, kindly make sure your water bill is paid up.
It’s the least you can do for your neighbors,
who will soon probably be needing to recharge
their own reservoirs, those brown or blue pools
in which on occasion you may have glimpsed yourself,
smaller than life.
Known unknowns
what did I hear in the park
except many things
calico flags
conformable to their meaning
I went therefore to them
to understand us
with few words but the water
high and singing
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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