This Is Just To Say
William Carlos Williams
——————————————————————————–
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
Month: February 2012
Why these windows move mountains Poem by David Michael Jackson
I am worn weathered wood.
I have seen the storms,
felt the hot sun,
endured the wind until
I am cracked.
My colours have faded into
burnt siennas from red under
the sun’s rays.
I have seen the owl at night and
the hawk in the day for
I am a window in this wood,
this weathered wood.
I am a window or
I am nothing.
I am a window.
Sneek up, take a peek
into my panes.
She will be there, sitting
at the table
having her tea
or holding her cat
quietly
***
gets up every morning and joins the crowd poem
he
doesn’t live that life so he
gets up every morning and joins the crowd
Which shore?
He said petals from an appletree
yes petals from an appletree
and leaves falling silently
Which shore?
He said petals from an apple tree
and
summer music
and the summer breeze
and he washes up on the hundredth poem or the thousandth poem or
footsteps on a stair,
washes up on the shores of reason and reaches
washes up with the wordbarrel
empty.
***
David Michael Jackson 2005