Wood For Water
How come this night
You wash in a pan
A shallow draw of stream water
Spilled down from wild apples
Of the mountain, where deer
Browse, make trail
Leave droppings
Hand over hand, you may
Think of it this way, or
Water that simply flows
Spreading into a sound of peepers
Where I’ve entered
Truck low geared
Flushing every redwing
From trees we were to clear
Blackberries grew then
Tickling stone walls
While working in the heat, high boots
Rolled pants
Many came apart wet in my hands —
Couldn’t save any, not even for you
That was a half year ago —
Now dead wood dropped, hauled, split
Chickadees perch closely, fluttering pine
There is firewood to stack dry
Someplace through winter
At night you bathe cold, cold water
Heated warm —
When you dress you forget underwear
And the thin white blouse —
Just a dress, sleeveless and red
Rope Of Bells
It is the
Rope of bells
You have put behind the door
That let me know
Whenever one of us goes
To the privy
The woodshed
The outdoors
Lovely
Passing
It is Spring
Already you relax in a cotton skirt
Passing through mountains is a strong feeling
Fields plowed, new wood split, the hawk floating
Puffs of softwood in the gray hills
A river runs with snow melting
A small bridge neatly built to get by
There is a pleasure in such places
An old woman and her huge straw hat
Raking the far corner of a hay field
These Of The Morning
There is the wondrous that begins here
So easily, the pail that you put out in the rain
That fills
Walk a meadow
Hold a hand with your two hands
Be with your closest
Sunlight is never far away
We’ve crossed the small water into our surroundings
Hiked and became tired and loved
And what we didn’t bring with us
We found
In the smell of each other, the little movings
————————————
BOB ARNOLD
I'm In Love With You
Who Is In Love With Me
Longhouse 2012
