Chance: Six More From a Tarot

holloway overhung with ancient trees n Cornwall
This entry is part 11 of 13 in the series Chance: A Poetic Tarot

 

61

On the grass before
noon: a hundred circles
with the sheen
of pearl—

62

Such grit
that roughens
the dwelling-
place of years—

63

And if I hardly
gave you gifts,
that is their
rarity.

64

A metal
goblet will
hold water
colder.

65

Tears are a sign
the body misses
its last warm
appointment.

66

The sky’s wide
boat, this seat
under the tree
that silvers me—

 

In response to Via Negativa: Oysterous.

Chance: Six More From a Tarot

holloway overhung with ancient trees n Cornwall
This entry is part 12 of 13 in the series Chance: A Poetic Tarot

 

67

Fishing boats
and trawlers,
broken masts
and mains—

68

What’s more
inexhaustible
than what can’t
be controlled?

69

Salt crusts, split beams
and backyard shrines:
ledger of the lost
along the seawall.

70

Every stone
will bear a name,
a list that will
go on and on—

71

Trestle and bridge,
fountain from which
the water has fled:
yet we are all drenched.

72

Someday you’ll go on hands
and knees, peer through
the stained glass of
the miniature church.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Chance: The Last Six From a Tarot

holloway overhung with ancient trees n Cornwall
This entry is part 13 of 13 in the series Chance: A Poetic Tarot

 

73

Let me be quick
to rise when the world
is slow, when the bird
tarries in the guava tree.

74

The women used to sit one
behind each other on the steps:
talking, cleaning lice
from their hair.

75

In town after town tonight,
streets are heavy with grief,
lined with bodies
of the drowned.

76

The moon says, I am not
a gypsy with a crystal
ball. I am not the cold
coal burning in the grate.

77

I shine my light
through every
unbearable
field.

78

Only a fool would save
the drink umbrella.
Only a fool would dance
at the brink of the world.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.