Like musical instruments
Abandoned in a field
The parts of your feelings
Are starting to know a quiet
The pure conversion of your
Life into art seems destined
Never to occur
You don’t mind
You feel spiritual and alert
As the air must feel
Turning into sky aloft and blue
You feel like
You’ll never feel like touching anything or anyone
Again
And then you do
photos from Golden Gate: Richard Misrach, 2001
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4 comments:
I love this poem!
Tom, great to see these poems here. The collaboration with the visual art gives these a whole new space to float in....
Dale
Thank you Zeph and Dale, and forgive me for agreeing this one looks lovely, the shine and float and glow of light and cloud and sky, looking out through the golden gates from these hills up behind us... a big part of what makes this one look so good, or course, is down to the far-reaching eye of Richard Misrach (and, once again, the close work of hand and eye by Z.).
Only poem I ever memorized
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