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
