Fallen from Heaven
two small dogs stare skyward
to where an eagle is struggling
with his catch, a cormorant, until
smack, the bird drops beside them
one small dog shakes and howls,
the sky is falling, large injuries
dropping round him, and his master
has to off it with a shovel
then today he shakes and shakes again
when a red flicker knocks into the window
returns to life under his anxious careful eye
knock against the stars, my exalted
head, I read in a sonnet as I went to bed last night,
knock your exalted head against the astonished sky
Lumbering Seals Unexpectedly Leap Up
Who knew the magical would be entered
just now at 8 pm after dinner with friends,
after the young talents leapt on the notes
and held back any excess sounds, diving and
withholding, running quickly on the music
as if the physical demands were nothing?
On our way home, when the bay is so calm
there’s not a mark and the inlets sink
so quietly into the land that it’s the perfect
landscape, you say, it must be the simplicity,
when we stop for the sake of the dog
where the road meets the shore. And there
is another world. I stand and watch, eaten
by mosquitos, while you walk off down the road.
Two herons stand still, topped by sunlight,
while the rocks are full of sleeping seals.
And around them other heads are swimming.
Stand still while a seal leaps up and slaps down
into the smooth waters, sound in the silence,
thrusting into the air and diving deep like a whale
breaching in the ocean, and other heads
come down the bay, exclamation points on still water.
And some of them leap too and dive, and the herons
still stand, and I stand, in respect for perfection.
two small dogs stare skyward
to where an eagle is struggling
with his catch, a cormorant, until
smack, the bird drops beside them
one small dog shakes and howls,
the sky is falling, large injuries
dropping round him, and his master
has to off it with a shovel
then today he shakes and shakes again
when a red flicker knocks into the window
returns to life under his anxious careful eye
knock against the stars, my exalted
head, I read in a sonnet as I went to bed last night,
knock your exalted head against the astonished sky
Lumbering Seals Unexpectedly Leap Up
Who knew the magical would be entered
just now at 8 pm after dinner with friends,
after the young talents leapt on the notes
and held back any excess sounds, diving and
withholding, running quickly on the music
as if the physical demands were nothing?
On our way home, when the bay is so calm
there’s not a mark and the inlets sink
so quietly into the land that it’s the perfect
landscape, you say, it must be the simplicity,
when we stop for the sake of the dog
where the road meets the shore. And there
is another world. I stand and watch, eaten
by mosquitos, while you walk off down the road.
Two herons stand still, topped by sunlight,
while the rocks are full of sleeping seals.
And around them other heads are swimming.
Stand still while a seal leaps up and slaps down
into the smooth waters, sound in the silence,
thrusting into the air and diving deep like a whale
breaching in the ocean, and other heads
come down the bay, exclamation points on still water.
And some of them leap too and dive, and the herons
still stand, and I stand, in respect for perfection.