by Alice Oswald, from Woods, etc.
last night at the joint of dawn,
an owl’s call opened the darkness
miles away, more than a world beyond this room
and immediately I was in the woods again,
poised, seeing my eyes seen,
hearing my listening heard
under a huge tree improvised by fear
dead brush falling then a star
straight through to God
founded and fixed the wood
then out, until it touched the town’s lights,
an owl elsewhere swelled and questioned
twice, like you light lean and strike
two matches in the wind.
No comments:
Post a Comment