Archive for June 24, 1992

I half-awoke, standing in a forest
bark peeling in long curling strips
from the shivering trees, mist
hanging like moss in the higher branches
leaves layered thick under the soles
of my feet, and I just listened
to the dripping of water
falling like bullets from the sky.

I Take Time to Tell You

Posted: June 24, 1992 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , , , ,

I saw the moon come
From behind a cloudbank.
It took time to see this;
I take time to tell you.

My pipe glows cherry-red
Deep inside; smoke drifts apart.
I watch it fall away,
Clasping this time to me.

Faces twist in the veils of smoke
From the cauldron of my pipe
Melting to the orchestration
Of so many crickets singing
Farther and farther away.
I tell you of a porch somewhere
And a row of old trees
Stretching up down the road.
I’m no poet; I’m not quite sure
Of what to say.