Another Season

From Water

If you've slid
over frost-glazed strand
and rowed that shade of blue
past mapled crimson
in the cove she was moored,
if she rose and fell with a sigh
because the season
had grown thin as promises,
then you know, don't you,
something of life
and a little about death.
If she's cast rainbows
in the spray
and moaned with the lust
of wind and sea,
then you know something of dreams.
If you've taken her from water
and hid her away for the long winter,
you know something of sorrow.

~ Ralph Murre

I Tried

I tried to read the work of a poet,
but found he was not ready for me.
I’ve put his book aside
to give him time to prepare.
Perhaps, when I next take him
from the shelf, he will have
swept up and made the beds.
He will have weeded the gardens.
There’ll be freshly cut flowers
and the aroma of baking bread.
Perhaps he’ll offer me a
comfortable chair before launching
into his long and lofty talk.

~ Ralph Murre

an old one, first published in Free Verse (#81) and then in Other Voices (Cross+Roads Press)

a thought upon moongazing

my heart is about

the size of my fist

they tell me

but it holds more

doesn't let go

~ arem

Very excited to say that one of my latest pieces, "Stitches in Time", now appears (17 Oct.'11) on Norbert Blei's Poetry Dispatch in some very fine company. If you are not a regular follower of this compendium of all things poetic, you are missing one of the real wonders available on the internet. Check it out and tell me if I'm wrong. http://poetrydispatch.wordpress.com

Darkroom

Darkroom

I am feeling around
in a darkened room
trying to find
something sound
in my writing, art, life.
Sometimes a light
flashbulb brief and bright
illuminates the scene
but blinds the sight.
Did I catch a glimpse
of something real?
and did you see it?
and what does it mean?
and can it be right?

~ Ralph Murre