ars poetica part 5

303 words

People,
people You
ask what kind of boats in my country Oh—
appetizers upholders
of the
law Good
to the cherry
drops And the high
bush cranberry Truth Lisp
and wisp
Grew dense Thru
marsh fog
Waiting From
my cottages my hand full
of lilies All gone by
sleep To what
season Of poetry
Disappearing
Among the green
pads—
In the night Come
home to moon
As I paint the
street Thick creamy blossomy Ten thousand women
Wild strawberries To wild
green To trembles Then
the first one—red
wheels
The main atrocities They floated
past
a crescent moon In Virginia—
the strawberries
The nerve—
flash
in the blood
By
religion—slow
in any
case
Not
built
by brute
force
And
What
you liked
As
my arms Cost
to my
little
Or
to be
taxed—the blossoms
Larger, whiter
than
owls’ High, lovely,
light,Look,
the
woods, the sky,
our
home. Hitch,
nevermind,
cramped When
we’ve made the world
anew No grief
to modulate And
soothing syrup for sleepiness
From grass to
grass he
never to him
self has sunk
humanity
dull man, Romeo
and
Juliet
how faithful
are
your branches Feathering
Heights—
how they can
dance
up
there Rise
and soar We
approach
the
dignity Could be
more
, could be
warmer, could
be more Glass
box
mushroom
our crops
come
up thru change
of season
When I’m
alone
it’s
an open
day
around my house
the wild swans
hear
fly
back
to it each
summer
of
my writing
tablet through
which we successfully
passed
a student
the little
white
slave-
girl
all
three came
to
an end
worth
sticking to
(almost) to
The indigo
Sea
Grew in
Green slide
Slant
Of
Shore
And
Shades
These
Closed-
In days
A still
State
Hard
To weep
A deep
Trickle
Resolved
Beyond I
love
you

BROOKE BURNS