To enter the poem as flesh as the dream that stuns you –
the owled necessity that sings of the other does the poem
sit in relation to the other as it does to ancient song?
to enter the poem afresh, to return the dream that stuns
owled necessity, the song of the other we who would gather
brambles and speak as if we live forever (which stories
stick to the ground of the poem?) is it wonder sitting at my
throat recalling an earlier witness and becoming known?
to enter the poem again has the eclipse been stone for long?
-
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Gathering just-a-bit-o moss 
Happy New Year 😊
You capture the depth of poetry so well here. The ability to read and re-read. Living and breathing words, ever changing and always drawing the reader in.
Thanks so much Audra. Was trying this and that to get something postworthy out since my last poem and then finally put together this one… so glad it worked… and a happy new year to you 🙂
we who would gather
brambles and speak as if we live forever
I like that at the center of the poem. It takes several readings for me to size up my reaction to your work. Often something about it creeps up beside me and suggests there’s something true in it. Usually, it isn’t easy to identify and maybe in likewise fashion it is a difficult truth. I suspect as poets/writers we rarely understand what’s really going on anyway.
Happy New Years to all the lovely poets. May we stumble through 2019 with some success
Thanks 🙂
It’s a difficult time to write poems in general. But you are right about the truth not jumping out: most of the time I feel that magical center eludes me by only so much. So really appreciate your efforts at grappling with them. A happy new year to you and may all your stumblings bear verse.