Peeling back
layers
(Eustace Clarence)
how many days
(months)
did I ignore
the crust(s)?
I almost deserved it.
never staring
never leaning forward,
not even my neck,
only
sitting
with my ankles crossed
quite ladylike
Pleased.
(A cat?)
But not pleased.
...
A storm in the wind
--not a bad one--
a good one.
The air
changed
thunder
rumbled
(1--2--3--4--5 Five miles!)
far, far away,
across the solemn Alps, the siren Alps
(or perhaps only a cornfield)
but underneath
something blinked.
Pricked up its ears.
One drop
slid down my cheek.
It was rain
It was.
...
too much in (and such stuff)
too little out
milk
Flannery O'Connor: no pleasure before discipline.
The habit of art.
Madeleine L'Engle: freedom within form.
The sonnet.
But there must be
must be
a well of water
springing up
to eternal life
within my soul.
...
Bright Sheng : The Nightingale and the Rose
modern
cacophonous
tumultuous
trumpets
and
yet
at the last note
I am
leaning
forward.
Spine, shoulders, chin.
And the thunder is here. The wind, the rain, the chill.
Deliciously here.
"Weee aarre hheerre!"
1 comment:
I LOVE this, Noel. Love it.
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