Saturday, July 3, 2010

black cloud swirling

(This poem, a shape poem, loses about 90% of its meaning without formatting. Try commenting and I'll e-mail you the proper version.)


dark, trembling

mislead in the creek.

black cloud lives

in swell swirl pool schist sandstone rubble

a still liminal in rain and runoff street and forest fouled by teens between

wonder and restlessness solitude comity, the cloud whirls like storms flirting with glass ground edgeless

observed by barefoot doe-brown eyes which, gleefully, take cover from the heat of the car that threatens further travails

eyes which bear the gift of naming these swirling nimbus shadows river-hoppers even though this place of twisted material

fails to bear the gift of Nature but for bearing microscopic bubbles linked for a few weeks to schistsoapstonemarblesteelrod

Here in this ichtyological-amphibian womb fashioned by man, planning, careless, sixty toes rest silent in fine-milled rock glass

watched by five hundred parabolic eyes, sensed by millions of fishy synapses, for if only one toe shifts it kicks up the silt

we watch them back as their indecision causes a random walk in the Wissahickom if foe thought neutral, must go

reactions are linked as the water droplets in a rain cloud act as one

witness how these noiseless nimbus

minnuws hop into young


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