29 November 2009

Wonder not at an essence,
Or sift a pattern for its spring--
What is hidden's not unfound,
Hazard and habit is one thing.
The morning light has no intention,
Nor's weaving shadow art's invention.

22 November 2009

As besotted with clouds
As thought wanting shape,
As one seeking consequence
In a bottle of air--
What seems found, isn't there.
The eye mismeasures to the degree
The beholder projects his quality.

18 November 2009

Small words, and blue,
As if melancholy had haste or simplicity,
And efficient calamity 'compassed
With a semaphore of doubt--
Released-- from affection's habit,
And the time become no hour at all,
Alien to oneself.

16 November 2009

Musical insinuation
Within your private ear
Sounds emotioned purview
No other may hear.
This precarious displacement
Of internal affairs
Is an oblique rearrangement
To a scoring of cares.
That particulate free form
That echoes the primal day
Is a natural analogue
Of tuned patterns that stay.

13 November 2009

The discovered country's time--
That undimensioned point
Lent by memory phantom length
By supposition breadth,
In which its finders seeming flow,
Naming the motions of mind and limb hours
And stitched narratives a life,
Yet ever in one place,
From alpha to omega.

04 November 2009

Of gladness with changing circumstance:
I am the field when it touches me
Is the chit'ring rain
My thoughtless shell at night
The near-fetched motions of others
Make my instant self.