Sunday, February 3, 2013

SIMON PETTET ~










There is a cruel, messianic, dim, tribal intransigence


That gains you nothing


There's a bull-headed childish baby-tantrum


That can unleash untold consequences


I am appalled by the darkening of the sky


I watch my love


It is always my love I watch









The first time that we stayed
In the city we stayed indoors
But I looked out a lot
On an empty lot (and)
Was quiet and kept to myself


We first moved in the dead of winter
I was like an animal
Needing some place warm
(which of course I never got)


But I do recall golden shafts of light
Upon me
One particular winter's afternoon









the robin and the butterfly


and the leaf and the flame


and the extinction









It is when the extreme point of restlessness


is reached


that grace comes



at a terrific speed










BEAU REGARD


Her skinny body is white as a harvest moon,
Clear as a crystal goblet, radiating light
She has one face, two hands with slender fingers,
bright eyes, she looks at me,
she's not afraid to look at me
nor I to look back









SHE


She
is the very picture of fortitude
and on her head wears one of several
floppy hats,
drapes her form in glorious scarlet
and is at ease,
when bending down and calmly placing
either one of both her hands
upon the stormy animal's mouth


__________________________________

Simon Pettet
from More Winnowed Fragments
(Talisman House, 2005)





photo : john sarsgard




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