Saturday, April 28, 2012

OF Things So Precious and Brief: Dispatches From An Unfinished World

I am so in love with this simple yet startling piece. Doesn't it's smallness just speak volumes? Oh, I am nearly in tears over it's beauty!

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by Rebecca Lindenberg

A leaf the green that a child would choose
if asked
to draw a leaf.
*
This heavy-petalled rose
is humid as the accent
of my current correspondent.
*
Trees unberried by bird.
Trees unleafed by beetle.
*
My correspondent
is a tentative man and I
am unaccustomed to tentative men.
*
White rose blossom
browning at the edges.
Paperback book.
*
Inside, my mother humming
a song I’ve never heard.
*
Kinds of holiness.
*
Trees unbarked by winter deer.
*
My correspondent
will not let me love him.
*
Green things make
such mild noise.
*
I uncross my legs
to find, with a bare foot,
that sun has warmed the stone.
I partake of the sun.
*
And the stone.
 
National Poetry Month #27
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