Santa Fe Poetry Broadside
Issue #22/23, October, 2001 : The Year We Uninvented the Rose -- -1 -2 -3 -4 -5 -6 -7 -8 -9 -10 -11 -12 13 -14
       Constancy of the Moon -- -1 -2 -3 -4 -5 -6 -7 -8 -9 -10 -11 -12
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Judyth Hill

                 

Awakened Wreckage

The darkness in flight above, we call raven -
What is their sound for our darkness?
Or light caught in ponderosa needles:
How do we name what ignites us that gently,
What brings us to color?

I shed some skin in this place I've come to know.
Redwing's song, the hummer's quick belling,
And how he took the surface of marble,
Leaving gleam and the centuries of collected shine.

What do I know here?
Excited green of the newly leaved scrub oak,
Grape hyacinth, all the way to violet
Invitational:

Iris, coupled lemongold to spears of several shades.
This is lush, varietal, a mix, not ever one,
You, see that?
Not ever only.

Somehow landscape tells the truth.
We should marry the various, the many,
Opportunities of greened, of bud, bloom
We should go to seed. We should.

Copyright © 2001 Judyth Hill.

About the poet.

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Issue #22/23, October, 2001 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.