.
It was the work of fortune
which brings joy and not pain only.
But can a winged thing become less?
She lived on E. 75th Street
to speak plainly.
I mean: in the divisiveness of love
two people pass through
the same instant separately
for all their awareness sighs
for life and not for each other
but in doing that it does.
1968
Old growth European Beech forest, Biogradska National Park, Montenegro: photo by Snezana Trifunovic, 2007
Beautiful poem, Tom, especially coming after Wyatt yesterday (and chess board day before), with photo (such ancient trees "of beechen green and shadows numberless"!) -- and what a surprise to see "1968" (when I thought it was today)!
ReplyDelete3.22
pink edge of grey cloud above blackness
of ridge, motion of black pine branches
in foreground, wave sounding in channel
impulse to make image clear,
methods are inadequate
collapse, effect of present
world, quotation marks
grey-white sky on horizon next to point,
shadowed canyon of ridge across from it
1968 is ever today
ReplyDeleteSteve, Tom,
ReplyDeleteHello hello.
collapse, effect of present
world, quotation marks
Yes, it's the collapse that's to blame. The effect of the present world is to forever eject "me", too, back into 1968.
Ah, here in 1968 it is always the old growth forest of Montenegro.
With wave sounding in channel.
Tom,
ReplyDeleteLove your comment on "Pillow" --"On the one hand, private joy. On the other, public chaos all around us. The Vietnam war was raging. Martin Luther King had just been shot, there were riots, LBJ had gone on tv, obviously under great stress, to say he would not stand for re-election." Who would believe it, and yet are things any different today (yes & at the same time it's still "public chaos all around").
"I mean: in the divisiveness of love
ReplyDeletetwo people pass through
the same instant separately"
You are killing me softly, Tom. Killing me softly. This is one of my favorites. Stellar. I can keep going with the superlatives, but that would get weird.
Weird, maybe.
ReplyDeleteWonderful, definitely.
(That whooshing sound is modesty flying out the window...)
Otto, let's do a lite beer commercial together someday. Would give me an excuse to say, I love you, man.
love this poem Tom...it is romantic and intriguing...may I put it in my poem blog?
ReplyDeletePor supuesto, mi amiga.
ReplyDelete