I study the lives on a leaf: the little
Sleepers, numb nudgers in cold dimensions,
Beetles in caves, newts, stone-deaf fishes,
Lice tethered to long limp subterranean weeds,
Squirmers in bogs,
And bacterial creepers
Wriggling through wounds
Like elvers in ponds,
Their wan mouths kissing the warm sutures,
Cleaning and caressing,
Creeping and healing.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
On a Leaf
Today, 'just" a beautiful poem by Theodore Roethke, quoted in Iron John by Robert Bly. A close study, if short, on the life all around us, but unseen unless you take the time to look...
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1 comment:
That's what differentiates the writer from everyone else: writer's take the time to look.
(I think you mean Robert Bly)
Thanks for the kind words about "Frankie"
I never found out any more. He went East presumably to die.
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