BlueIris
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Fri Apr-25-08 11:58 AM
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The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 4/25/08 |
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"Still Life"
I must explain why it is that at night, in my own house, Even when no one's asleep, I feel I must whisper. Thoreau and Wordsworth would call it an act of devotion, I think; others would call it fright; it is probably Something of both. In my living-room there are matters I'd rather not meddle with Late at night.
I prefer to sit very still on the couch, watching All the inanimate things of my daytime life— The furniture and the curtains, the pictures and books— Come alive, Not as in some childish fantasy, the chairs dancing And Disney prancing backstage, but with dignity, The big old rocker presiding over a silent And solemn assembly of all my craftsmen, From Picasso and other dignities gracing my walls To the local carpenter benched at my slippered feet.
I find these proceedings Remarkable for their clarity and intelligence, and I wish I might somehow Bring into daylight the eloquence, say, of a doorknob. But always the gathering breaks up; everyone there Shrinks from the tossing turbulence Of living, A cough, a creaking stair.
—Reed Whittemore
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CaliforniaPeggy
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Fri Apr-25-08 01:33 PM
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Ah, how lovely!
It always amazes me just where your mind can take you...
This is really nice!
Thank you...
:hug:
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BlueIris
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Fri Apr-25-08 05:25 PM
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2. I flooooove this. Took me forever to relocate it for the poetry breaks. |
BlueIris
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Sat Apr-26-08 07:56 AM
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BlueIris
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Sat Apr-26-08 10:47 AM
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