Sunday, December 22, 2013

Dead Center


Upon reflection, as I dip my pen

Tonight, forth ripple messages in code.

In Now’s black waters burn the stars of Then.

Seen from the embankment, marble men

Sleep upside down, bat-wise, the sleep bestowed

Upon reflection. As I dip my pen

Thinking how others, deeper into Zen,

Blew on immediacy until it glowed,

In Now’s black waters burn the stars of Then.

Or else I’m back at Grandmother’s. I’m ten,

Dust hides my parents’ roadster from the road

Which dips—into reflection, with my pen.

Breath after breath, harsh O’s of oxygen—

Never deciphered, what do they forbode?

In Now’s black waters burn the stars. Ah then

Leap, Memory, supreme equestrienne,

Through hoops of fire, circuits you overload!

Beyond reflection, as I dip my pen

In Now’s black waters, burn the stars of Then.

James Merrill

No comments:

Post a Comment