I will not speak of it
though sun speckle the ivy
with yellow light
and foxgloves sway
in the breeze.I will be silent
through heat and stunning
slices of rain; through
the river’s decline
to its grey-pebbled bed.Though the air
turn orange and thick
with fire, I will say
nothing. I drift like a ghost
through my own life.
Snapshot 20 July 02005
4 responses to “Snapshot 20 July 02005”
-
Not shyly, but
perhaps slyly
the comment of no comment. -
Thanks for this reminder of how much they matter, the places we inhabit with our not-saying, the visions and sensations that give rise to it. Terrific poem.
-
Oh.
What Dave said. -
Dave’s right – this is a terrific poem. I like “hieroglyphs” too.
Leave a Reply