Today's poem is by Michael Robins
I had yet imagined a stream fed in feather.
Ash, mostly. Mostly science, mostly grams,
the body, the flight over a towering steep.
The scream, the bridge as bride maybe. Mostly
tentative, more than or less, statistically spoken.
Then the deer on the island, mostly imported.
Then a first bird against our window, mostly
mother's hands & knees, almost a magician.
Imagine the brow with sweat, not a grimace
mostly grief, mostly song. Wrapped in cloth,
the weight in a palm perhaps, broken, calm
around the anthem. Mostly the deer adapted.
Once, mostly dumb in the nest, I'd imagine
worms, woods, a door behind the perch.
Mostly suture, persistence, then mostly dirge
as it fitfully blows, half conceals. Then the deer
fed mostly on the birds, mostly the young.
I had yet imagined the rain, the heavy clouds.
Copyright © 2011 Michael Robins All rights reserved
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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