Inspired by various poems by Gary Snyder.
Certain of that, with my car
On the edge of the wide field
Of rocks, over which this river
Runs in spring. I was squatting,
As I am now, next to the river,
Absorbing the moss, the corduroy
Lines on the water, a fish, the
Mountains which hem in this
Place, the towering, light-stealing
Trees. There is no noise, except
For the water. I wonder, why did
I come back today, to know what
It's like to be wholly alone, to
Relearn what stands between me
And the prairie, to retrace the
Steps which, so oddly, have
Brought me back here, where
I was once before?
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 61 times
Written on 2014-05-08 at 01:04
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Snoqualmie Forest
I was here once before. I amCertain of that, with my car
On the edge of the wide field
Of rocks, over which this river
Runs in spring. I was squatting,
As I am now, next to the river,
Absorbing the moss, the corduroy
Lines on the water, a fish, the
Mountains which hem in this
Place, the towering, light-stealing
Trees. There is no noise, except
For the water. I wonder, why did
I come back today, to know what
It's like to be wholly alone, to
Relearn what stands between me
And the prairie, to retrace the
Steps which, so oddly, have
Brought me back here, where
I was once before?
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 61 times
Written on 2014-05-08 at 01:04
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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