Saturday, September 15, 2012

the glow deep inside


by Charles Wright

It's not so much the description, it's what you describe,
Green pox on the aspen limbs,
Lilac bud-bursts set to go off,
                                                suppuration of late May.

The world is a tiny object, a drop of pine sap,
Amber of robin's beak, like that,
                                                    backlit by sunlight,
Pulling the glow deep inside.

{from Scar Tissue}

I took these photos last week with my little Lumix. The bottom image was completely lousy, so I just kept fiddling with it, until it made me happy.  It's a nothing photo, I suppose, but it was a way of focussing in on the tininess of the world, the brown grainy golden beauty.

Anyway, it's good to be reading Charles Wright again.  I think I have every book he's ever written. And when I read him, I feel like it's okay to sit in my particular chair in my corner of the universe, and to just observe. I feel like I've been given permission to say odd and wonderful and creaky things from where I am, my particular obscure existence.

1 comment:

  1. odd and creaky . . . It looks like a wood block print. Very cool.


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