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Reading
by Leonard M HawkesThere were letters--words
At five, six, and seven;
But at eight, I found
The hillside, the creek;
At nine the marsh,
And by twelve, the mountains.
Thirteen revealed the human form,
By fourteen, the heart
Focused the eye--the eye
Read to the heart.
A silver sun streams
Through the firs and spruces;
The willows in the marsh
Are restless--dancing.
Gnats, motes of light,
Dive and dart;
Angelica grows now
Where the porch once stood;
Sedge has swallowed
The horseshoe pits.
Forty years in four letters--
Loll. 08/10/2007 Author's Note: On sight sketch near the old dining hall
Posted on 08/17/2007
Copyright © 2024 Leonard M Hawkes
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 08/17/07 at 06:16 AM This poem has everything I love... a musical, confident voice that soothes and excites, a luscious tenderness of language, with an intense burning inner core of knowing. The details of "Angelica" and "sedge" overgrowing the known... the "horseshoe pits" all in a heightened moment of looking. Beautiful. |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 08/17/07 at 06:17 AM Love the numbers, the progression of age...and the "dancing" too. |
| Posted by Jim Moore on 08/17/07 at 06:17 AM A deep, descriptive write that pulls in the reader, reminds us of how fragile we really are. Enjoyed this! |
| Posted by Richard Vince on 11/25/07 at 09:46 PM mm. wonderfully evocative. well painted. |
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