Not Missed

I may never send this on, yet the subject persists:
If I were to copy here only the high-lighted parts of a poem,
would the result be an edited, slimmer version?
Would the last line count as the explanation point?

Could the poet have written that last line so edited?

Let’s try it and see:

“I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
to learn that the line I called the horizon
does not exist and sky and water,
so long apart, are the same state of being.

I will not return to a universe
of objects that don’t know each other.

If only you could see
how heaven pulls earth into its arms
and how infinitely the heart expands
to claim this world, blue vapor without end.”

excerpts from the poem, “Monet Refuses the Operation”

The poem is 46 lines long, and I have copied 11 lines.
Would I have known it was about the artist Monet? I don’t believe so.

Would I have missed this line:
” that it would take long, streaming hair
inside my brush to catch it ” ?

Yes, my dears, I would have missed so much. My monthly calendar
this year has been made up of prints of paintings by Claude Monet.
So, when I found the whole of this poem in the “PANHALA” email
from Joe Riley, on Sept. 5th, last month, I was enchanted.

Whole poem can be found in “Sixty Years of American Poetry”,
the Academy of American Poetry.

Always with love,
(Painting by Katie Kindilien)



Back at the stand!

What happens when I find myself again with you in the middle of the night, suddenly sharing,
suddenly finding you are here,
just as I thought.

I do have a thoughtful poem sitting here by my computer.

I’m glancing at the power of just WORDS. In this poem my
friend has used the word “fall” to summon the time of year.

Let me share the poem right now:…………………..

” The world of fans and curtains drawn,

Indoor retreats, recede in the face of enticements

We called fall.

No paucity of pigment here, only audacity.

Silent shadows stalk my back

Temporarily restrained by solar infusion.

There is intimacy now, as mother earth begins to disrobe,

An intimacy born of maturity.

If seasons had an astrological sign,

Autumn would be mutable.”

…………..CAROL CURRIER, artist, astrologer, poet and world citizen. September, 2013

The poet has drawn upon so many ways of the turn of a word to bare-bones the splendor of this season
we are in.

I can leave it at that and hope that each line pops out differently each time you glance at this poem again.

always with love,