Across the river from the nuthouse
under the gush of grey
sodden sky flirting with the
sun—a fickle breeze tumbles
autumnal leaves through the last gasp
of meadows, golden and rusted
brambles and milkweed
the glimmering of winter berries.
All along the river the reddish
leathery, stubborn, snaking
stuff of vines and other creepers
once verdant, persistent leaves sprawling
over hapless earth.
Yesterday the grass, now
the lace of frost traces maple veins.
Tomorrow the stark solemnity
of leave-taking—Then, the end
creeps upon them: surprised, they
burrow into deepening frost.
***
I have been reading a lot of William Carlos Williams of late. Here, a take on SPRING AND ALL, one of my favorite poems.
To see more of my poetic glimerings as we traverse National Poetry Month, detour to BLUETRUEDREAM, my blog of daily musings. Peace...
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I love your bare-knuckled descriptions, the "nuthouse", the "fickle breeze" and the "surprise" in the final lines. Sorry I haven't gotten hip to your other blog until now. Do you have the book itself entitled 'Spring and All'? It's one of my very favorites: a fascinating hybrid of prose and poetry, explication and demonstration. No one can truly appreciate the red wheelbarrow who hasn't read it in the context of the whole book.
ReplyDeleteWow.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading this poem. Mark, your words mean a lot, you are a poet whose work I aspire to, so thanks. I do NOT have the book, though I have other collections, and will rectify that asap. Peace...
ReplyDeleteNew Directions just came out with a facsimile of the original - this is on my wish list.
ReplyDeleteI've been thinking about this poem since I read it. It's really good. I think you're far better at poetry than perhaps you realize.