SEPTEMBER 19, 2018

A Miracle of Birches and Other Songs

“When I was beginning to read I imagined

that bridges had something to do with birds…” – Merwin, from “Echoing Light”


On the Horizon Thanks

for an entire year after there was only

one image that loomed over me from the holiday 

it was not of the granite tables of chipped black

or the sets of matching dishes the turkey

or the green beans that lingered there shining

in the slow roasting pot nor the people as it should be

but it was later on that night across the street

one lot left yet unbuilt upon jagged and still by original pines

that did not have Christmas lights on them

mere apparitions that added such bold strokes of dark green

mixed in as with a brush the billows of a deep frost

that had entered the valley above the golf course links

and like something of the supernatural took over

for the rest of the night the neighborhood houses

the lawns still furry early winter before the pure white

of a first snow had grasped its thousand strongholds

and for once there were no sounds for what comes

first we notice never makes sound but is that what is

and I felt at home for once in that day and gave thanks

and the horizon understood without asking

sending out its abundance by the cold song of river