Sunday, November 27, 2016

Weather: Goats Love Fog

The magic of Google Photos automatic panorama creation
made this from a recent dog-walk.
In the way of all beautiful weathers,
this beautiful weather has not lasted. . .


They try to watch themselves, drifting in a white sigh,
the boats and trees, and themselves, too,
when they think of it, spun from sheets of gauzy droplets
with which to tar the morning white and walk upon it.
The horizon yawns. The earth is liquid. They can feel
it, and not just it but the blanket meaning of it.
Here, bravado is the pretense of the immortal
before the infinite. There being no other side, 
they must surrender to this, seeing they cannot,
so far, find a door, hack a hole or mark a spot.
Goats love fog. Parked lovers and beachcombers
love fog, and those who fear the authorities, 
and the camera shy love it, and they adore it
who wish to be wrapped in beauty so delicate
one must step outside it to be able to see it.

Marvin Bell

edited by David Biespiel, Oregon State University Press, 2006, page 17.

Some of the best contemporary American Poetry is to be found in regional anthologies. My favorite line in this one might be,
"Goats love fog." and the poet does not elaborate, just goes on along, like a goat along the beach. 
I hope you are getting outdoors as much as you can; it is nourishment for the soul and the body. Your assignment:
make us a little weather poem.  jhh

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