The Yard (West Hartford, 1970)
and
lost between a summer gesture
when
I was young I always wanted weather
apples
strewn in grass I
heard the trees
ask
after me
spectral
horses
strung
along the language of the hours
back
there behind the house in moss
I
held a story let you sound me out
or
you spoke in shallow sleep: movement on the wall
bed
become so small
consider
what you planted with those stolen seeds:
earth
reveals its layers
a god to force me under
a god to force me under
make
me loam and garden
by
Nancy Bevilaqua
"spectral horses
ReplyDeletestrung along the language of the hours" Two of many potent lines in this thoughtful piece--very effective universal closing stanza as well
Absolutely enchanting. 'Consider what you planted with those stolen seeds' could be interpreted so many different ways and that, for me, is one of the signs of excellent poetry. There is an uncomfortable cadence that makes the words and images even more evocative. Excellent work
ReplyDeleteReally like
ReplyDelete'when I was young I always wanted weather
apples strewn in grass'
These words are so evocative.
ReplyDeleteThank you all so much for the kind comments!
ReplyDeleteI am "anonymous" who commented above (I am too lazy to create a profile, but my name is Jim)--there is truly a mystical quality to your poem--the comments made about this richly crafted work are well deserved--hope to see other verse you pen
Deletehello nancy
ReplyDeletemere sentences cannot express the volume of your expansive words. it is truly divine. an acquaintance on Hello Poetry, an online writing site once declared i had the Gift. well, the mystical pen is awarded to u as well. so bold, stirring like a beautiful sunset yet abstract in nature. i hope future verse will continue this wanderlust mind.