Green Scene

Green Scene

This evening will lead to no other night.
This evening will end
no other day.

This evening where all that’s seen
is green–how lucky
is that–
except where that bird just streamed–
a line crossing the t of tree and leaf and grass
blade–

My eyes hurt the ache of a heart
that can’t in this green
justify pain–
a farther bird swoops
the verdigris,
this one like the dark dot
of an i, an eye, an I–

Fly, bird, says all that is healthy
in me, all that lets
t’s be, i’s sigh, that breathes in
this evening,
this day,
this night,
as it closes those sore eyes,
then opens them,
looking out.

*********************************
A draft of a littlest sort of poem, written just for myself.

 

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7 Comments on “Green Scene”

  1. hedgewitch Says:

    Those are the best kind. (written just for oneself) And somehow they usually speak to others as well. I have tried to learn to accept that one cannot even explain, let alone justify pain…like the green, or the crossing bird of a particular moment, it just is. Beautiful, liquid ruminative mood to this , k–sad and beautiful.

  2. X Says:

    Sometimes I think that in the face of so much life, our pain can seem all the more. And though it may try to drive it out, it only seems to pick the scab.

  3. Anonymous Says:

    You are on such a roll — which has been going on for years. I can’t get over it. Such discipline. It takes you to words that have great value and meaning, but it’s difficult to put a finger on it at first, like some first-ever chemical reaction.

  4. M Says:

    hey, for a break, you sure are killing it, k ~


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