The small plough continues on this lined page
beyond the moaning ground, the lynching tree, the tornado’s black vengeance,
and the young ploughman feels the change in his veins, heart, muscles, tendons,
till the land lies open like a flag as dawn’s sure
light streaks the field and furrows wait for the sower.
via Forty Acres: a poem for Barack Obama from Nobel winner Derek Walcott – Times Online
One of the great surprises of post-NaPo is that the poem of the day that I signed up for continues! Yay.
But what I’m going to post today came out in April. I just didn’t have time to post it when I got it.
Her Body Like a Lantern Next to Me
by John Rybicki…………There’s this movie I am watching:
my love’s belly almost five months
…………pregnant with cancer,…………more like a little rock wall
piled and fitted inside her
…………than some prenatal rounding.…………Over there’s her face
near the frying pan she’s bent over,
…………but there’s no water in the pan,…………and so, no reflection. No pool
where I might gather such a thing as a face,
…………or sew it there on a tablet made of water.
It’s very moving. Definitely go and read the whole thing.
