Thursday, October 18, 2018

The Sunday Poet: Bert Stern

Poet Bert Stern

I’d been sitting by the river all afternoon 
and now the sun was going down and Venus 
shone on the horizon.  I’d been sitting 
to watch how the water swirled into braids 
and swirled out again.  I was watching 
a leaf ride the river until, drawn into 
sluggish water near the bank it rested there. 
Evening fell but the full moon made 
the moving water sparkle. 

Quite late a trail took me up the long bank 
and across a rough meadow home. But before 
I climbed the porch steps I stopped and listened 
to distant water and a single owl. 
Above me Orion was still in place,   
so I went in to sleep in a room whose floor 
was earth and whose ceiling was moonlight.   
All night as I slept, in generous swirls 
the river pursued its intricate dance, as if 
it were still learning.

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