Bratislava Temperature Inversion: photo by Ondrejk, 11 November 2005
Winter fog -- thought
neither
in
nor out --
hid through
the day
in the night
window
shadow of
a doubt --
neither
in
nor out --
hid through
the day
in the night
window
shadow of
a doubt --
Fog shadow of Sutro Tower, San Francisco: photo by Mila Zinkova, 2006
9 comments:
Beautiful!
very closely knit sounds & their meanings. a lot like drum beats.
by the time it ended i was chuckling. bravo!
Gracias, Nin and Aditya.
The fog has rolled in following the last wave of rain, and everything is dripping.
Even the shadows, as dawn now sneaks up on us.
Tom,
"thought/ neither// in/ nor out --// . . . shadow of/ a doubt"
clear here now, perfect rainbow across Mesa against clouds an hour ago, big wind and rain yesterday and last night -- opened up leak in living room roof, took down spar from eucalyptus above driveway ("widow makers" they call them, my car struck once again). . . .
1.21
sunlit white clouds moving to the right
above ridge, blue jay landing on branch
in foreground, sound of wave in channel
relative to these therefore
for such, such events
by inversion of this, above
this, then follows by
grey rain cloud against invisible ridge,
whiteness of waves in windblown channel
Missoula Girl
I sent my twin shadow into the far off wind. Mt. Jumbo rolling along in October up the Rattlesnake in the middle of it all. I was too young to be a healer but the news was pressing me. Consulting the cloud chart—
“a change in weather seldom comes as a surprise
to those who know the meaning of nature’s warning signs.”
Saw the bones of the earth and the blood of the land falling, falling, down to the
altostratus (translucidus) on horseback. The sun appeared to be behind frosted glass.
Called my animals around me—the calico, Tristeza, a fat ewe, her lamb, Cookie. There was Bup (part poodle), Shumagin & Moonshine (husky and grey tabby), Cherrip, the teddy bear hamster, in his plastic ball—held a conference of the world. For the world. For the wind and sky.
What was left? Layers.
Today’s map is yesterday’s weather.
Fog simply a cloud reaching ground level.
What came back was this: question, question, question
a long, squiggly line.
GREYISH MATTER
—for Tom
Nothing
Like a poem
Like this too
Clear your head.
I took this stunning word and picture display to bed with me last night and woke up with it this morning. Really terrific and way "up there." Curtis
By indirections find directions out
(Polonius in Hamlet) corresponds v well with your poem Tom.
Reading this had put me in mind for your poem.
So I come over to read it
and see that you've posted another Shakespeare marvel.
Poor old Polonius got such an unfortunate reputation, merely for exercising the same kind of spycraft that's routine nowadays, when every keystroke we exchange is vulnerable to surveillance.
What's more, his comment indicates penetrating psychological insight on his part.
But of course by turnabout all the penetration came straight back at (or shall we say to, or through?) him.
And really, when observing one who seems to be going about with his head lost in a fog, the motive-reading method of snoopery seems only appropriate.
But as nowadays it's all done by bots, which can't read minds because they don't have them, well, the detection of indirection seems all but a lost art.
Though there are always the literary critics...
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