Middle Winter  — Poetics
Sometimes I stay away from my words
so I do not write the poem I should
not write sometimes I call to my words
to make that very poem without me
Sometimes I build a poem so
carefully from the foundation up
over time, like a house. Carefully
but not like you carefully construct a
statement. That poem so carefully
built is no more a statement than
a house is. You can live in a house
or a poem but not in a statement
which is a small thin thing that is
laid on a table in a house and holds
nothing up nor lets nothing down.
Sometimes a poem is a raindrop
on a piece of paper on which
a statement is written, on a table
close to an open window on
a mild midwinter day.
The poem is a rock thrown from the moon.
Or the moonflower that furls into a fist at the
sun every morning.