Still Hands (Cento)
I let it burn, rooted as it is. Now
nothing else keeps my eyes
in the cloud – get close to a star,
and there you are, in the sun.
What about all the little stones,
sitting alone in the moonlight?
Silence complicates despair.
I have believed so long in the magic
of names and poems,
and I know that you would take
the still hands to dryness and
loose rocks, where the light
re-immerses itself. It’s not the story
I want. We cannot live on that.
* * *
Sharon Wevill, Julia de Burgos, Francis Ponge, Mary Oliver,
Alberto de Lacerda, Robert Hass, HD, Jacques Dupin, Francesca Abbate, George Oppen.
Ahhh, this stirs wishes to re-live recent lunar eclipse with a fresh perspective … leave camera packed away and simply sit in the changing light, noticing not just the moon’s image changes, but also changes in reflections in gravel beneath me, in the skin of my arms, the hue of campsite foliage …
Sometimes I get caught up in the act of attempting to record a moment, and don’t really experience the moment.