THE DAINTY MONSTERS
Michael
Ondaatje
back next
|
Eventually the Poem for Keewaydin
Two years of coming here
and seeing others write poems of the house and its cabins
spread like wings into the night
and saying to myself
only those hit by the scenes like a dream find explanation easy.
Taking nature into our routine
we accept more than to write about it,
and the superficial is the poet’s paradise.
Poems do not leave you when all this air and leaf
and mass of stars weave in the censoring lake
to become your own myth.
And yet tonight I sat on the steps
and noticed that the cars too with their white eyes
fussed in their circle of space; their brown backs
surfaced with gum and dust,
they chomped quietly into bushes,
their chrome teeth moving among the pith of the night.
|
