sangre de cristo range




outside of santa fe

 

cold rain among the pines

altitude 12,ooo feet

 

droplets dripping from needles

one finds its way

 

down the back of my neck

sending a shiver along my spine

 

so delicious, so singular

that i thought of wittgenstein

 

language is imagery

i write to preserve the image

 

by the image the experience

it will never come again

 

not in time or place

never the same river twice

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





Poetry by one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 83 times
Written on 2021-05-27 at 23:45

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Steven Riddle The PoetBay support member heart!
Wittgenstein and Heraclitus in one poem—remarkable in itself, but in one with such fine imagery—nicely done.
2021-06-19


Bibek The PoetBay support member heart!
I found this work very curious, Jim. It starts almost Zen-like (with the lone speaker strolling in the pine woods; one droplet running down the neck), then it moves on to become a commentary on the philosophy of language. I too have been trying to preserve the image, in my writing, for a long time. And I like the dreamlike (poetic) and philosophy-like (analytical) sides of the poem. Well balanced.
2021-05-28