Quiet, Quiet Now




As in crossing over the Bourne Bridge

onto the Cape’s curled lobster claw;

as in walking through a redwood forest,

hands brushing the ferns;

as in the way mist clears from Crater Lake,

leaving that hallowed blue of snow shadows;

as in the shade of regimental monuments

off by themselves in Antietam’s evening fields;

as in the middle of Kansas

where all there seems to be is wheat and sky;

as in a glass-bottomed boat

backing and idling over a coral reef;

as in the trapizoid buttes of Montana,

as in the holy woods of upper Maine,

as in the Storm King Mountain sculptures of David Smith,

as in the ghost towns of Idaho,

as in the Frank Lloyd Wright house where a black piano

still hangs suspended over narrow stairs;

as in the light that falls into a Hopper painting,

as on a porch in lower Michigan;

as how a memory of calm

is like a tall and graceful woman in a summer gown

standing on the porch, holding the screen door open….

-Dick Allen

The Day Before: New Poems

Categories: Poems & PhotosTags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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