No finite whole is absolutely self-supporting as a contingent happening. G&B 251
The country falling apart__the moon restores the tide
wastewater mixed with salt__fat mallards catch a ride
smart money feeds on itself__my wetland mind breathes in
essences of windblown beach rose__brick chokes the horizon
oak tree tops wind’s highway__our heroes fall elsewhere
may these rhymes fall together__seagulls split the air
2 thoughts on “Pond Song 4.32”
Reading this I see how bad things and good alternate, and then finally combine in the wish “may these rhymes fall together”. I like the placing in dead centre of the words “my wetland mind breathes in / essences of windblown beach rose” (a longer description of a good thing than the others) and central as it speaks plainly of the mind of the observer and thinker. And I like also the final image of the seagulls splitting the air. Congrats Tom!
This poem is lovely! It defines and counters the heartbreak of human hubris and its contrivances and their effects with the simplicity of consciousness attuned to the wonder of life mirrored in the moment by a lyric so crystal clear that its facets reflect and in no way cloud the essential flow of livingness shared by the poet and natural world around him. Just beautiful!