Monday, July 5, 2010
the intricate work of live
oak trees in sunlight, one
hard-edged shade after another,
branches shagged with pale
green moss; random play
within a limited field, then,
leaf, leaf cluster, light,
shade, shadow and act,
wave and particle,
John Lewis and Milt Jackson,
morning places you at such
infinitesimal distances from
consequence, precision
seems the natural way things
choose to be ordered, touch
the table edge as though it
too were an instrument, cup,
glass, bowl and spoon, a single
blackberry stem etched, like
punctuation, into the saucer’s
pale rim; leaves, as I said, and branches
Thursday, July 1, 2010