Within the church
The solemn priests advance,
10 lines
In love's dances, in love's dances
One retreats and one advances,
23 lines
Acknowledge the drum's whisper.
Yield to its velvet
19 lines, 1 comment
The tube lift mounts,
sap in a stem,
9 lines
Is it sounds
converging,
23 lines
It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first:
To offer you now at last my least and my worst:
18 lines
We are a people living in shells and moving
Crablike; reticent, awkward, deeply suspicious;
25 lines
Wouldn't you say,
Wouldn't you say: one day,
16 lines, 1 comment
1
(Windless Summer)
12 lines, 2 comments
Green sea-tarnished copper
And sea-tarnished gold
14 lines, 1 comment
Light drunkenly reels into shadow;
Blurs, slurs uneasily;
12 lines
Under the lips and limbs, the embraces, faces,
Under the sharp circumference, the brightness,
11 lines, 1 comment
The clock disserts on punctuation, syntax.
The clock's voice, thin and dry, asserts, repeats.
8 lines, 2 comments
The birch tree in winter
Leaning over the secret pool
11 lines, 1 comment
When you are slightly drunk
Things are so close, so friendly.
19 lines, 1 comment
This is not Love, perhaps,
Love that lays down its life,
19 lines
The sun, a heavy spider, spins in the thirsty sky.
The wind hides under cactus leaves, in doorway corners. Only the wry
14 lines, 1 comment
To walk as you walk, green eye, smiler, not
Even ostentatiously alone but simply
11 lines, 1 comment
Old women look intently at Nothing when the doctor
announces a cancer, dark fruit, under the
10 lines, 3 comments
Architects plant their imagination, weld their poems on rock,
Clamp them to the skidding rim of the world and anchor them down to its core;
8 lines, 1 comment
This shape without space,
This pattern without stuff,
17 lines, 1 comment
Blame us for these who were cradled and rocked in our chaos;
Watching our sidelong watching, fearing our fear;
4 lines, 1 comment
Bells overbrim with sound
And spread from cupolas
16 lines, 1 comment
Serrations of chimneys
Stone-black perforate
14 lines, 1 comment
Stairs fly as straight as hawks;
Or else in spirals, curve out of curve, pausing
16 lines, 1 comment
Light's patterns freeze:
Frost on our faces.
24 lines, 1 comment
The birds' shrill fluting
Beats on the pink blind,
16 lines, 1 comment
Suddenly, desperately
I thought, "No, never
14 lines, 1 comment
One day people will touch and talk perhaps
easily,
15 lines
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