Brief flight/ to read more poetry

Red Cardinal, Central Park

“A washed corpse, the body of rain-drenched trees

That below my window darkens further. In

Rememberance. Grave blankets of dusk over it.

Cold sheet of mist over it. Death a bird shadow

On the sill. This is the plot of my consideration.

The copse below my window, the small wood

Without an oracle, with no significant episode.

It is a hand’s breadth. It is a small ache.

The hand knocks at the window. The window opens.

The smell of wetted dirt and wild fruit steps



If you stand above woods the tree

Is one. It is many, if you walk below. Many,

If you step past the stations of your thought

And number your steps. Smaller and smaller.

The faculty of expansion decreasing. The faculty

Of breath decreasing. The rain withdrawing

With a whistling hush.”


Two extracts from ‘Past the Stations’ by Brigit Pegeen Kelly – from her book, Song.


Further – this, and this (the book of which I will be receiving as a bonus for subscribing to Hobart late at night, and having a fine talk about whisky and bourbon with Hobart on Tumblr.


And, if you’d like more, there is also this. Where I would one day like to go and stay in the house of the future, listening to the waves rasp the black rocks while I type. Or while on the shore I try thinking of poems that are worthy of the rocks.


Filed under 2012, art, consolations of reading, New York, The Now

2 responses to “Brief flight/ to read more poetry

  1. That photo of the cardinal! Fantastic.

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