Self and reality. Symbol and language. Myth and image. Memory and consciousness.
Dream and unreality: locus communis.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

187/365 - 191/365


11.14.10
Unexpectedly
rain falls on the poet as
he circles his poem.

11.15.10
Gray autumn descends—
only a pale green exists:
as a curled lizard.

{—and a tanka form emerged today as well—}

Week of silences.
But now: mucky turtle crawls,
toad and crane startle;
at the base of a green pond—
one drowned rat floats, suspended.

11.16.10
The drowned rat’s carcass
lies wearing its mousey coat
beside the pond’s edge.

11.17.10
A hint of a stain
is all that is left behind,
from the rat’s grey corpse.

11.18.10
Walking by the pond
We startle ducks into flight
cross shards of moon.

1 comment:

  1. Walking by the pond
    We startle ducks into flight
    cross shards of moon.

    beautyful!

    ReplyDelete