On Chloris Walking in the Snow

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1. Chloris in the Snow I SAW fair Chloris walk alone, When feather’d rain came softly down, As Jove descending from his Tower To court her in a silver shower: The wanton snow flew to her breast, Like pretty birds into their nest, But, overcome with whiteness there, For grief it thaw’d into a tear: Thence falling on her garments’ […]...
2. Marine Snow At Mid-Depths And Down As you descend, slowly, falling faster past You this snow, Ghostly, some flakes bio- Luminescent (you plunge, And this lit snow doesn’t land At your feet but keeps falling below You): single-cell-plant chains, shreds Of zooplankton’s mucus food traps, Fish fecal pellets, radioactive fallouts, Sand grains, pollen….And inside These jagged falling islands Live more microlives, […]...
3. Snow-Flakes Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent and soft and slow Descends the snow....
4. Two Travellers perishing in Snow Two Travellers perishing in Snow The Forests as they froze Together heard them strengthening Each other with the words That Heaven if Heaven must contain What Either left behind And then the cheer too solemn grew For language, and the wind Long steps across the features took That Love had touched the Morn With reverential […]...
5. On Anothers Sorrow Can I see anothers woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see anothers grief, And not seek for kind relief. Can I see a falling tear. And not feel my sorrows share, Can a father see his child, Weep, nor be with sorrow fill’d. Can a mother sit and hear. An infant groan […]...
6. 473. On Chloris requesting a sprig of blossom'd thorn FROM the white-blossom’d sloe my dear Chloris requested A sprig, her fair breast to adorn: No, by Heavens! I exclaim’d, let me perish, if ever I plant in that bosom a thorn!...
7. Walking Around It so happens I am sick of being a man. And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movie houses Dried up, waterproof, like a swan made of felt Steering my way in a water of wombs and ashes. The smell of barbershops makes me break into hoarse sobs. The only thing I want […]...
8. 528. Song-On Chloris being ill Chorus-Long, long the night, Heavy comes the morrow While my soul’s delight Is on her bed of sorrow. CAN I cease to care? Can I cease to languish, While my darling Fair Is on the couch of anguish? Long, long, &c. Ev’ry hope is fled, Ev’ry fear is terror, Slumber ev’n I dread, Ev’ry dream […]...
9. WALKING WITH ANGELS for Lindsay AIDS Knows the condom wrapped penetration Of strangers and lovers, deep inside Only a tear away from risk Knows bare minimum t-cell level counts, Replacing intoxicating cocktails With jagged little pills Knows how to avoid a cure thanks to war How to keep pharmaceutical corporations And doctors in business AIDS Knows the weight […]...
10. 540. Inscription to Chloris ‘TIS Friendship’s pledge, my young, fair Friend, Nor thou the gift refuse, Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralising Muse. Since thou, in all thy youth and charms, Must bid the world adieu, (A world ‘gainst Peace in constant arms) To join the Friendly Few. Since, thy gay morn of life o’ercast, Chill came the […]...
11. The Snow Fairy I Throughout the afternoon I watched them there, Snow-fairies falling, falling from the sky, Whirling fantastic in the misty air, Contending fierce for space supremacy. And they flew down a mightier force at night, As though in heaven there was revolt and riot, And they, frail things had taken panic flight Down to the calm […]...
12. Walking With God (Genesis, v.24) Oh! for a closer walk with God, A calm and heavenly frame; A light to shine upon the road That leads me to the Lamb! Where is the blessedness I knew When first I saw the Lord? Where is the soul-refershing view Of Jesus and his word? What peaceful hours I once enjoyed! […]...
13. On Chloris Standing By The Fire Faire Chloris, standing by the Fire, An amorous coale with hot desire Leapt on her breast, but could not melt The chaste snow there which when it felt For shame it blusht; and then it died There where resistance did abide, And lest she should take it unkind Repentant ashes left behind....
14. Snow Late December: my father and I Are going to New York, to the circus. He holds me On his shoulders in the bitter wind: Scraps of white paper Blow over the railroad ties. My father liked To stand like this, to hold me So he couldn’t see me. I remember Staring straight ahead Into the […]...
15. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
16. In Snow O English mother, in the ruddy glow Hugging your baby closer when outside You see the silent, soft, and cruel snow Falling again, and think what ills betide Unshelter’d creatures, your sad thoughts may go Where War and Winter now, two spectre-wolves, Hunt in the freezing vapour that involves Those Asian peaks of ice and […]...
17. Snow Walking through a field with my little brother Seth I pointed to a place where kids had made angels in the snow. For some reason, I told him that a troop of angels Had been shot and dissolved when they hit the ground. He asked who had shot them and I said a farmer. Then […]...
18. 483. Esteem for Chloris AH, Chloris, since it may not be, That thou of love wilt hear; If from the lover thou maun flee, Yet let the friend be dear. Altho’ I love my Chloris mair Than ever tongue could tell; My passion I will ne’er declare- I’ll say, I wish thee well. Tho’ a’ my daily care thou […]...
19. Shoveling Snow With Buddha In the usual iconography of the temple or the local Wok You would never see him doing such a thing, Tossing the dry snow over a mountain Of his bare, round shoulder, His hair tied in a knot, A model of concentration. Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word For what he […]...
20. Snow Day Today we woke up to a revolution of snow, Its white flag waving over everything, The landscape vanished, Not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness, And beyond these windows The government buildings smothered, Schools and libraries buried, the post office lost Under the noiseless drift, The paths of trains softly blocked, The world fallen […]...
21. Improvisations: Light And Snow I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she knows. How inadequate they are to tell how her heart feels! When she has finished them several times She thrums the strings aimlessly with her finger-nails And smiles, and thinks happily of many things. II […]...
22. On a Lady Throwing Snow-Balls at Her Lover [From the Latin of Petronious Ascanius.] When, wanton fair, the snowy orb you throw, I feel a fire before unknown in snow. E’en coldest snow I find has pow’r to warm My breast, when flung by Julia’s lovely arm. T’elude love’s pow’rful arts I strive in vain, If ice and snow can latent fires contain. […]...
23. Walking the Dog Two universes mosey down the street Connected by love and a leash and nothing else. Mostly I look at lamplight through the leaves While he mooches along with tail up and snout down, Getting a secret knowledge through the nose Almost entirely hidden from my sight. We stand while he’s enraptured by a bush Till […]...
24. Looking, Walking, Being “The World is not something to Look at, it is something to be in.” Mark Rudman I look and look. Looking’s a way of being: one becomes, Sometimes, a pair of eyes walking. Walking wherever looking takes one. The eyes Dig and burrow into the world. They touch Fanfare, howl, madrigal, clamor. World and the […]...
25. Just Walking Around What name do I have for you? Certainly there is not name for you In the sense that the stars have names That somehow fit them. Just walking around, An object of curiosity to some, But you are too preoccupied By the secret smudge in the back of your soul To say much and wander […]...
26. Walking in the sky Walking in the sky, A man in strange black garb Encountered a radiant form. Then his steps were eager; Bowed he devoutly. “My Lord,” said he. But the spirit knew him not....
27. The Walking Man of Rodin LEGS hold a torso away from the earth. And a regular high poem of legs is here. Powers of bone and cord raise a belly and lungs Out of ooze and over the loam where eyes look and ears hear And arms have a chance to hammer and shoot and run motors. You make us […]...
28. In the footsteps of the walking air In the footsteps of the walking air Sky’s prophetic chickens weave their cloth of awe And hillsides lift green wings in somber journeying. Night in his soft haste bumps on the shoulders of the abyss And a single drop of dark blood covers the earth. Now is the China of the spirit at walking In […]...
29. Walking Across The Atlantic I wait for the holiday crowd to clear the beach Before stepping onto the first wave. Soon I am walking across the Atlantic Thinking about Spain, Checking for whales, waterspouts. I feel the water holding up my shifting weight. Tonight I will sleep on its rocking surface. But for now I try to imagine what […]...
30. Walking The Marshland It was no place for the faithless, So I felt a little odd Walking the marshland with my daughters, Canada geese all around and the blue Herons just standing there; Safe, and the abundance of swans. The girls liked saying the words, Gosling, Egret, whooping crane, and they liked When I agreed. The casinos were […]...
31. The Dead Man Walking They hail me as one living, But don’t they know That I have died of late years, Untombed although? I am but a shape that stands here, A pulseless mould, A pale past picture, screening Ashes gone cold. Not at a minute’s warning, Not in a loud hour, For me ceased Time’s enchantments In hall […]...
32. THE WALKING BELL A CHILD refused to go betimes To church like other people; He roam’d abroad, when rang the chimes On Sundays from the steeple. His mother said: “Loud rings the bell, Its voice ne’er think of scorning; Unless thou wilt behave thee well, ‘Twill fetch thee without warning.” The child then thought: “High over head The […]...
33. Walking on the Estuary Hill The curlew and the heron call, The hissing mud and whispering wings Beat eery through the idle air Until the moonlit midnight silence falls And then the tide flows softly Through the gut and sluice of estuary sands And dark against the dreamlit sky The trees arise from hedgerows, And the hills Alive with monstrous […]...
34. Elegy: Walking the Line Every month or so, Sundays, we walked the line, The limit and the boundary. Past the sweet gum Superb above the cabin, along the wall- Stones gathered from the level field nearby When first we cleared it. (Angry bumblebees Stung the two mules. They kicked. Thirteen, I ran.) And then the field: thread-leaf maple, deciduous […]...
35. The Gardener XIV: I Was Walking by the Road I was walking by the road, I do not Know why, when the noonday was past And bamboo branches rustled in the Wind. The prone shadows with their out- Stretched arms clung to the feet of The hurrying light. The koels were weary of their Songs. I was walking by the road, I do not […]...
36. The feet of people walking home The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go The Crocus til she rises The Vassal of the snow The lips at Hallelujah Long years of practise bore Til bye and bye these Bargemen Walked singing on the shore. Pearls are the Diver’s farthings Extorted from the Sea Pinions the Seraph’s wagon Pedestrian once […]...
37. To Spring O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down Thro’ the clear windows of the morning, turn Thine angel eyes upon our western isle, Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring! The hills tell each other, and the listening Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turned Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth, […]...
38. The House Of Dust: Part 02: 11: Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares With purple lights in the canyoned street. The fiery sign on the dark tower wreathes and flares. . . The trodden grass in the park is covered with white, The streets grow silent beneath our feet. . . The city dreams, it forgets its past to-night. […]...
39. Autumn: A Dirge The warm sun is falling, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the Year On the earth is her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying. Come, Months, come away, From November to May, In your saddest array; Follow the bier Of the dead […]...
40. Walking To Oak-Head Pond, And Thinking Of The Ponds I Will Visit In The Next Days And Weeks What is so utterly invisible As tomorrow? Not love, Not the wind, Not the inside of a stone. Not anything. And yet, how often I’m fooled I’m wading along In the sunlight And I’m sure I can see the fields and the ponds shining Days ahead I can see the light spilling Like a shower […]...