Saturday, April 5, 2008

Herald of Spring

Out of the subway
walking home

The night sky waves,
flames through a smoke scarred furnace door,
thick and heavy and
muffling the triple gong of a distant church bell

Pathway lamps cut the trees
and pulse the fog
that bleeds the park

Only my foot falls sound the sidewalk

Now, a cold siren in Harlem

Through the haze
a mammoth stone rises
speared with the bones of trees --

and a golden presence hovers in their midst --

A small tree,
a yellow-petaled halo,
crowns the stone
among the ruins of winter

6 comments:

  1. Ah, only the voice of Spring could make the urban sound so organic!

    And the crowd cries - "More!".

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  2. I'd comment on the verses, but I'm too deep into writer's purgatory; I read 'em, but I don't feel right commenting anymore. I haven't finished a book in months—not even Hemingway or Voltaire can compel me to a finale.

    Anyhow, very good video. Very good site, for that matter. Many thanks.
    [Psst! I, uh, happen to have "My Life in the Bush of Ghosts" on hand, if you're interested.]

    Hope you and G are doing alright.

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  3. i hear an echo of Fitzgerald. "The wind had blown off, leaving a loud bright night with wings beating in the trees..." i love it when you post a new poem. it always makes me happy. i definitely look forward to purchasing your first book of poetry.

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  4. Aunt Sylvia is one of my favorite things I've read from you. Captured me in full-- I couldn't stop reading. The detail and imagery... oh jeez, it was just great.

    This one is also beautiful. I like the description... definitely makes me see the contrast between good ol' Oklahoma and the city.

    Missing you guys. Hope you're well.

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  5. I really agree with Karen^ on this one; I idolize your imagery and detail.

    Lovely poem, Mr. Erickson, you make writing look easy.

    Steinle

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