Poetry

Ulteriority*2

They come as if from nowhere

Like the grounded finely clipped

Twigs when things get hungry.

Probably squirrels. You can

Always bet on the squirrels,

The cute ratty crooks.

But they go also, like the

Clippings and prunings you

Left to the whimsy of winter.

If you look closely though in early

Spring, the first of the balmy days,

Something comes out,

Nothing you'd ever want, but

That's the way they are. 

They come

Out as if from nowhere.

Someone said it better, "the force

That through the green fuse

Drives..." us, but how can that be

We being so much above this or

That, we'll never really know?

But there are times, like a chickadee's

Frustration to tell you that it needs you,

Or that ratty crook clacking its warning

to its pals that you,

yes you, might just take them on.

And you go to lift a rock and there they

Are and have they been waiting for you

To lift a rock and why did you and they

Pick that rock when sometimes they

Aren't even there? Something didn't care.

And still they come as if from nowhere,

especially at times that ought to be Usual.

These exceptions then will never not be

Around for us you and me

who seem still unready for the comfort

in the wonder they offer in such gentle

surprises from out of nowhere.

*Robert Frost spoke of poetry's essential ulteriority," "saying one

thing and meaning another, saying one thing in terms of another, the pleasure of ulteriority."