.
The reader alone
in the empty house
beheld the distant haze
of the December hills
through bluish clouds
above the empty house
as if someone lived there,
the fire eye in the pines
quavering.
The winds
muted the night
swept by rain.
Pine trees: Hasegawa Tohaku, 16th c. (Tokyo National Museum)
5 comments:
Nights do seem muted when they are swept by rain. Very true. Or did you mean the winds were muted? I like the word "quavering" too. To me it suggests notes being played by the wind...
This will always be one
of the views from a
poet's house
Pinkerbell,
Thank you once again for your receptivity and delicacy. All those readings become part of the right reading.
Charles,
Yes: perfectly clear. Permanently clouded.
Tom – as Charles says, the view from a poet’s house. Especially one who is exiled in paradise. With your indulgence, here’s one from the manuscript of that same name.
What Ink Can’t Capture
“Fog veils the river and mountains”
the bridge crosses from one world
to another where sunlight brushes
the tips of redwoods and firs
mist necklaces drift to far off hills
pockets among the pines puff out
like paper lanterns illuminated
from within by slanting light
crude shadows mark the houses
half hidden among the trees
this stillness is always there
Pat,
A poem that feels as though it had been writ with the scarce light filtering through fog and cloud as its brush.
Many thanks for the continuing breath of sustenance.
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