Fence line
It’s all private land here, a stranger would have to work
hard to find the open gate, the front door. The clarity of work
what defines the clearing; no burn scars from careless
brush pile fires, workers’ handiwork hidden with care lest
someone come round who’d never been there before asking
for water, or a job, or for sunrise, fence a talisman as if asking
more would draw the aquifer of luck and wishes down.
6 comments:
So when does Wal-Mart start building?
Do you have your poetry archived in some way? I'd love to see what I missed before starting to read Chatoyance in December of 2006. Always am quite moved by the voice you bring to your poetry and that way you pair it with what you've seen. Thanks so much, Lori!
After much delay, I have found the energy to draw again. Have enjoyed seeing your drawings for A NEW BOOK OF HOURS.
Could well be the cover for a new McMurtry.
Your writing has a "clarity of work"
while leading us aside with metaphor.
beautiful picture - love that blue
ooh! thats all i can say. beautiful.
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