i placed a jar in tennessee,

and round it was, upon a hill.


—wallace stevens

i know a hill


i know a hill, gray-rocked and wooded,

i know the tone of it, contrived by her ladyship


to interrupt cadences, turn a sure step

into a slick stumble, a jar to the bones,


knocking the ego into the ravine below—

the creek-bedded, buck-brushed, vipered,


possum-hollowed wilderness, where 

unseen eyes behind trees and overhead


cast spells o'er the disorienting 'scape,

turning west to north, south to east, 


realigning itself to suit itself—its lichened self,

its crusted self, its eons of self. i am its witness


and victim. i am its addict, a woodland junkie,

a vibram-soled, uncompassed, stumbler of hills. 




Poetry by jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 423 times
Written on 2020-01-20 at 22:05

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

Thomas D The PoetBay support member heart!
This is stellar. Actually, terrestrial, but of utmost quality. Bookmarkable!

josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo, Jim! You passion and mysticism shine through gloriously in this piece. Wonderful and a joy to read.

Your appreciation of nature in whatever its forms are so alive here, 'tis good for the soul, yours for living and writing it and mine for having the good fortune in reading it.

Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
Your ability to bring your poetry alive with imagery has me smelling the wonderful aroma of the woods. I love this poem. Plus, I just researched Wallace Stevens and read some of his poetry. Thanks for sharing.