I took my lunch out into the garden, The only rose still blooming is this one,
the almost-too-vigorous climber Mermaid. A heritage rose catalog claims
that this was Monet's favorite rose, and the colors certainly resemble
those bright yellows he used in the rooms where he displayed
his blue-and-white porcelains. This climbing beauty will be cut back severely soon
because the fence must be replaced. It is very vigorous, so I am almost
certain it will survive.
Notice the dried stamens and petals from a prior bloom
at the very bottom of the picture.
An Instruction to Myself
Shepherd the things of the world to the page
But the things themselves Not just their names
which represent them which are their lawyers
The things of the world themselves Rouse them
to us as once they roused you so much you cannot
forget or leave or ignore them Give us this
fitfulness both burden and gift This glint that
haunts us pushes us into dream Into the great
prairies the green and gray seas the unbearable
deserts the boundless bird-sky of imagination
This song, this great song Our hands our fingers
our muscles making translation of every-
thing into its most fragile vessel Into word
Alberto Rios
A SMALL STORY ABOUT THE SKY
Copper Canyon Press, 2015, on back cover
I was just able to get a copy of Alberto Rios/s new book. He has long been
one of my favorite poets. And this poem was on the back cover. Notice carefully
the way he almost, but not quite, eschews punctuation. I only see one comma and
one hyphen. And it is an ARS POETICA! In a 13-line poem.
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