post poems here, because in the time that it takes me to type them out, I feel like I get them a lot better.
There's a poetry reading tonight. Everyone should go. Hodges, 7 P.M.
This one is unsettling.
On An East Wind From The Wars
The wind came in for several thousand miles all night
and changes the close lie of your hair this morning. It
has brought well-travelled sea-birds who forget
their passage, singing. Old songs from the old
battle- and burial-grounds seem new in new lands.
They have to do with spring as new in seeming as
the old air idling in your hair in fact. So new,
so ignorant of any weather not your own,
you like it, breathing in a wind that swept
the battlefields of their worst smells, and took the dead
unburied to the potter's field of air. For miles
they sweetened on the sea-spray, the foul washed off,
and what is left is spring to you, love, sweet,
the salt blown past your shoulder luckily. No
wonder your laugh rings like a chisel as it cuts
your children's new names in the tombstone of thin air.
-Alan Dugan
i missed the poetry reading. in favor of the gym. i feel like a bad friend on many, many levels.
ReplyDeleteon another note, i think we should each get new blogs on which to post the other's poems.