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Blacksmith Shop

I liked the bellows operated by rope.
A hand or foot pedal – I don`t remember which.
But that blowing, and the blazing of the fi re!
And a piece of iron in the fi re, held there by tongs,
Red, softened for the anvil,
Beaten with a hammer, bent into a horseshoe,
Thrown in a bucket of water, sizzle, steam.
 
And horses hitched to be shod,
Tossing their manes

And Yet The Books

And yet the books will be there on the shelves, separate beings,
That appeared once, still wet
As shining chestnuts under a tree in autumn,
And, touched, coddled, began to live
In spite of fires on the horizon, castles blown up,
Tribes on the march, planets in motion.
“We are, ” they said, even as their pages
Were being torn out, or a buzzing flame
Licked away their letters. So much more durable
Than we are, whose frail warmth
 
Cools down with memory, disperses, perishes.
I imagine the earth when I am no more:
Nothing happens, no loss, it’s still a strange pageant,
Women’s dresses, dewy lilacs, a song in the valley.
Yet the books will be there on the shelves, well born,
Derived from people, but also from radiance, heights.
 

Forget

Forget the suffering
You caused others.
Forget the suffering
Others caused you.
The waters run and run,
Springs sparkle and are done,
You walk the earth you are forgetting.
 
Sometimes you hear a distant refrain.
What does it mean, you ask, who is singing?
A childlike sun grows warm.
A grandson and a great-grandson are born.
You are led by the hand once again.
 
The names of the rivers remain with you.
How endless those rivers seem!
Your fields lie fallow,
The city towers are not as they were.
You stand at the threshold mute.
 

So little

I said so little.
Short days.
 
Shot days,
Short nights,
Short years.
 
I said so little.
I failed to say more in time.
 
My heart got tired
with admiration,
despair,
zeal,
hope.
 
Leviathan's jaws
were closing on me.
 
I was lying naked on the shores
of desert islands.
 
The white whale of the world
snatched me down into the depths with him.
 
And now I don't know
what was real.