Monday, May 11, 2015


R O B E R T    S U N D

photograph Mary Randlett,


Centuries Go By 

In the world of men
centuries go by leaving
little trace.

A blossom in men is
like a cathedral,
seldom built.

It must be that in schools
when the blackboard is being erased,
under the sweeping hand,
     some words
     disappear forever.

Shi Shi Beach 1991

Ink Bottle





inside this ink bottle

there is a starry sky!



Don't keep the lid on

your ink bottle

too long.

Seattle, late 1960s

Summer Solstice


It's been a busy day.


one hummingbird, then


For Allen Engle

Ten By Twelve

My shack is ten by twelve.

    Two bottles of saké

    under the bed.

    Hot soup on the stove,

    and bread in the oven.

My auto harp tuned up and ready.

When friends come rowing up,

how big this shack will get!

For Erik Ambjor

The Table I Keep

This is the table I keep.

This is my warm spot in the world.

A table to

rest my ink bottle on.

A table

with other tables inside it.

The ink wanting to be heard.

Ink whose body is a river,

whose fullness is

to be joined with other waters.

The ocean,

rolling landward

comes home

one river at a time,

cresting and breaking into song.

Each day at my table

I hear the heartsong

    and the lament,

as one by one

the rivers come home.

April 1991, Taos