Friday, May 12, 2006

deborah butterfield

On “Riot”,
sculpture by
Deborah Butterfield


In the riotous coming together of you,
no horseflesh, but old Texaco station “T”;
nor Texas tea nor oat nor hay burned
in the transport of spirit
from salvage yard of tortured steel
to bluegrass of Elysian field.
What god is this, or goddess,
that can create from tornado twisted tumult
and with torch wielded, weld
this elemental equine?
What wand is waved to bring alive
this alloy, so brave and fairly fused?
Of what steely something
can bridle be built
to control the manner of this mare ?
Of what miracle stuff, the harness
that can contain the energy
in this red riot?
Contain her not, I ask, lest
mere metal she become, and joyless junk.

- Ralph Murre

appeared in WFOP Museletter


Carolyn said...

Hey Ralph-

Nice poem. One of these days, maybe, possibly, someday you and Nancy will make it down to Evanston where we have a very nice Deborah Butterfield horse!

See you soon at the windy shores of Lake Michigan!


Bruce Hodder said...

Your range as a poet is amazing,Ralph. Shows the virtue of the blog form: through it you get to see so much more of the poet's mind than when their work is being picked through and selected by know-nothing editors (like me!)

Anonymous said...

How great it was to visit your site and see a poem (not sure the proper term to use here--ode, homage,?) inpsired by one of my favorite contemporary sculptors.

Always a pleasure to visit your blog. BTW, you have a very cool wife who I had the pleasure of meeting the other night. Love the small world of both the blogosphere and the peninsula.