Asylum
in the garden at the madhouse
our minds see much
how the wood
sends us word
who shall take the thin
man in
Poems on the topic: wood
Poems on the topic “wood” on Poets.by.
Timber
the great indifference of the wood
to the business of years
when they come to build
it is but another temple to home and bed
Pathetic Fallacy
I put on my mourning
and went to the wood, where
the wind fell.
I stayed till late.
It rained sadly.
The Muffin Man
I rose early to barber
the moss of the wood,
took a house
in Drury Lane
and ate toasted cakes
which were very crisp.
Evening walk
I discover in the timber
a ship of my own
full of night
quiet and old
Bell’s Gap
a woodpecker’s
speckled woods
weathering novemberly
down to embers
in the soothills
of the alleghenies
where victorians went
on elegant excursions
railroad logging a hundred
summers in a day
now free to go
fluttering
muttering off
earthward
warm
worm
Allusive haiku
whose woods these are
a barred owl asks
nothing of me
The Hollow (47)
railroad crossing
all the train horns
I hear in my sleep
in the unloved woods
between train tracks and river
needles and condoms
a shirt abandoned
by the fire ring
homeless campsite
floodplain
mosquitoes turning blood
into whine
Knots
With some trees, the knotholes
are among the last things to go.
You can find them staring up
from the ground, eye sockets
that never belonged to a skull.
It makes sense that trees would grow
their hardest wood around the weakest
points in their architecture.
This is called the branch collar,
& it is woven with wood
first from the branch
as it overlaps onto the trunk
& then from the trunk
as it overlaps onto the branch.
Behind the collar, in the parent
trunk or limb, the branch core forms:
Gently, into the deep woods
Please! Do not offer
No word of comfort
No solace-
Nothing.
Regret is a silent, deep pool
Still waters, dead calm
Dark and desolate
Black, cold marble where I lie prostrate.
Bubbles break, slowly
Between sighs
Between every heave of the lungs
Slowing down.
Discarded, I lie
Like a frog squashed on a highway.
Dissected, the heart
Still throbs, beating for a life already left.
Wooden Furniture
How many times, weary of life
Have I slumped betwixt your arms!
How many nights, dreary of life
Have I sought support of your top!
On you, my table, I rested my head
As if you were my lover's chest!
I gripped thee, in anguish so great
As if you were his shoulders broad!
I pressed my breasts, raking with sobs
Hard you were, silent to my woes.
I leave you now; this note, my last,
Let not the winds sweep it off.
The Long Goodbye
Alone, I walk fields and woods we loved
Seeing you with every step
Hearing your laughter
Smelling you sweet as a flower
Keep you safe within my heart.
Years slipped bye so fast
Old age slowing down my pace
Hair white as snow
Thoughts focused upon
Memories we shared
And I keep you safe within my heart.
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