Long sunlight dying in brick
speaks on the lips of reverie;
I search my heart for the
lost notes of the morning rain.
Crystals of firm conviction
in these uncertain senses
are blown about the lower sky
like dandelion seed:
a voyaging fall on warm breezes
through bird-sung bubbles,
or under ghosting stars
long before stories of snowflakes
and that cavernous time
when the sleepwalking mind snapped
a dry twig echo
to startle our dreams.
.............................
The shudder of my footstep on the stair
directs my mind;
the echo of my footstep on the stair
maps my dream.
'But there unaccountable ways to fall,'
I prophesy to the autumn-turning wind;
and leaves speak deep twigged
stories of rustling dusk.
......................
YOU ARE READING
Tapestries
PoetryPoems from 1978 onwards. These poems are in a different style from the later MajorSeventh, the earlier ones often with more of an Eastern-influenced cadence. Later, they vary a lot in form and style.
