BACK COVERS
I watch
Amazed
As my dear wife
Swifter than
Two fast dogs
Runs down hill
Toward the Bay
With ice cold clouds
Overhead
Amazed
As my dear wife
Swifter than
Two fast dogs
Runs down hill
Toward the Bay
With ice cold clouds
Overhead
THIS IS ALL REGRET
a poem by Emma Moonsinger
But
Let me say only one thing more
In passing
A casual sort of observation
Stripped of nuance
Free of rhythm
Without implication
No agenda whatsoever
An amusement merely
An amusement
When I moved to Forestville
For the sake of Love (insert raucous laughter here)
I made myself a promise
On that first starry night
I promised myself that I would
Spend each night
Upon that porch
Looking up at the starlit sky
It hung so closely overhead
It was unlike any sky I had seen
Since childhood
And I made a solemn vow
I thought that it could only do me good
I promised myself that I would
Each night, observe that sky
From upon that porch
It was deep and dark and somehow welcoming
That lovely sparkling expanse
And I swore that I would
From that day on (cross my jaded heart)
For as long as I lived in that neat place
Look up and upon that sky
For a moment I would dwell
Either giving thanks or
Barring that, open myself to
Accept its broadcast benevolence
The trees, you know, the trees
Seemed to know what I was up to
Flooded with a basic, off-hand, casual thanks, I
prayed
That I would pray again
And would continue to pray
Under those knowing trees
Until eventually
I would come to understand such beauty
And add meaning to my prayers
The cats had no problem with it
They were out there every night naturally
Secure in the knowledge
Deprived to me
By too much effort
And far too much muddled thought
And I went inside on that first night
With a solemn SOLEMN sacred SACRED searing vow
Branded fresh upon my lips
I swore
With an unfamiliar pride
Bravely swelling my stupid, childish heart
I swore
With tight closed eyes and clenchéd hands
I swore
And I lived in Forestville for –what?—
Three years (or more, I guess)
And never set foot out on that porch
At night
Again
from: Awake Amid Ancestral Dreams, by Emma Moonsinger
a poem by Emma Moonsinger
But
Let me say only one thing more
In passing
A casual sort of observation
Stripped of nuance
Free of rhythm
Without implication
No agenda whatsoever
An amusement merely
An amusement
When I moved to Forestville
For the sake of Love (insert raucous laughter here)
I made myself a promise
On that first starry night
I promised myself that I would
Spend each night
Upon that porch
Looking up at the starlit sky
It hung so closely overhead
It was unlike any sky I had seen
Since childhood
And I made a solemn vow
I thought that it could only do me good
I promised myself that I would
Each night, observe that sky
From upon that porch
It was deep and dark and somehow welcoming
That lovely sparkling expanse
And I swore that I would
From that day on (cross my jaded heart)
For as long as I lived in that neat place
Look up and upon that sky
For a moment I would dwell
Either giving thanks or
Barring that, open myself to
Accept its broadcast benevolence
The trees, you know, the trees
Seemed to know what I was up to
Flooded with a basic, off-hand, casual thanks, I
prayed
That I would pray again
And would continue to pray
Under those knowing trees
Until eventually
I would come to understand such beauty
And add meaning to my prayers
The cats had no problem with it
They were out there every night naturally
Secure in the knowledge
Deprived to me
By too much effort
And far too much muddled thought
And I went inside on that first night
With a solemn SOLEMN sacred SACRED searing vow
Branded fresh upon my lips
I swore
With an unfamiliar pride
Bravely swelling my stupid, childish heart
I swore
With tight closed eyes and clenchéd hands
I swore
And I lived in Forestville for –what?—
Three years (or more, I guess)
And never set foot out on that porch
At night
Again
from: Awake Amid Ancestral Dreams, by Emma Moonsinger