“A man no longer what he was, nor yet the thing he’d planned”
- Edna St. Vincent Millay, “If Still Your Orchards Bear”
Unplanned, I came in early evening
Down a steep path to the river's edge
Through trees overhanging the bank
Where last light in the lattice of limbs
Dappled the brown water like a fawn,
The slow current wrapping around
A cottonwood branch canoeing quietly
Past me, the deep light lifting its body
In a glint of gold leaves on the water.
On the opposite shore, an old cabin
On a hillside overlooking the river
Hung from a frayed ribbon of smoke.
Downriver, drifting, a rowboat burned
In setting sun and sank out of sight.
Fifty years the poem and I have waited
In the light on the water, the smoke
Above the hill . . . we wait there still.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 431 times
Written on 2011-01-15 at 17:21
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- Edna St. Vincent Millay, “If Still Your Orchards Bear”
River Poem
Not yet a man nor ever to be a poet,Unplanned, I came in early evening
Down a steep path to the river's edge
Through trees overhanging the bank
Where last light in the lattice of limbs
Dappled the brown water like a fawn,
The slow current wrapping around
A cottonwood branch canoeing quietly
Past me, the deep light lifting its body
In a glint of gold leaves on the water.
On the opposite shore, an old cabin
On a hillside overlooking the river
Hung from a frayed ribbon of smoke.
Downriver, drifting, a rowboat burned
In setting sun and sank out of sight.
Fifty years the poem and I have waited
In the light on the water, the smoke
Above the hill . . . we wait there still.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 431 times
Written on 2011-01-15 at 17:21
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
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josephus |
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Lawrence Beck |
