Saturday, July 6, 2013

the light once in

The Light of Interiors

by Kay Ryan

The light of interiors
is the admixture
of who knows how many
doors ajar, windows
casually curtained,
unblinded or opened,
oculi set into ceilings,
wells, ports, shafts,
loose fits, leaks,
and other breaches
of surface. But, in
any case, the light,
once in, bounces
toward the interior,
glancing off glassy
enamels and polishes,
softened by the scuffed
and often-handled, muffled
in carpet and toweling,
buffeted down hallways,
baffled equally
by the scatter and order
of love and failure
to an ideal and now
sourceless texture which
when mixed with silence
makes of a simple
table with flowers
an island.

So the one lovely thing I've been able to do all through this past week of feeling lousy is to sit outside and read poetry. There have been two books in particular that I keep circling around, coming back to - and I've put them both on my recommended shelf above. Adam Zagajewski's The Unseen Hand, and Kay Ryan's new and selected, The Best of It.  The poem above is from this one. I tell you when I read it - that moment of writer jealousy mingled with happiness, awe. That feeling of rightness with the world too, that you get when you read a poem that speaks to you. Says something you wished you'd said. Wished you'd written.

This morning I'm listening to Chopin, with thanks to Diane... :)

Thank you all for your kind comments. I'm limiting my time on the computer, but do find it a comfort to  spend a little time here with my photos and poetry.

The late day light...

1 comment:

  1. Those last two look like Robert Lemay paintings! Sending healing thoughts.


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