River rocks rolled,
for now in this garden
hans ostrom 2024
Showing posts with label rocks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rocks. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 31, 2024
Tuesday, June 23, 2020
"What Is Poetry?" by Amy Lowell
I ran across this poem in a book of Lowell's on the gutenberg project site. It was titled simply "Fragment." Lowell, as you no doubt know, was among the Imagist poets of the early 20th century.
link to short video/reading:
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Gray Boulder
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I Say That Gray Boulder
I say that gray boulder will always be
there, knowing it will be gone--but long
after I am no longer. I say it because
I need at least a stone to stay where
it was, where it is in my mind,
which needs rock to be more
than memory. Mind wearies of its
memories, its common stock. That
gray boulder's under cedars.
I sat on it, age six, and experienced
the expansive fluidity of sight, thought,
light, impulse, and sensation all children
know but don't know they will lose.
I say "that gray boulder," and I know.
Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom
}
}
}
I Say That Gray Boulder
I say that gray boulder will always be
there, knowing it will be gone--but long
after I am no longer. I say it because
I need at least a stone to stay where
it was, where it is in my mind,
which needs rock to be more
than memory. Mind wearies of its
memories, its common stock. That
gray boulder's under cedars.
I sat on it, age six, and experienced
the expansive fluidity of sight, thought,
light, impulse, and sensation all children
know but don't know they will lose.
I say "that gray boulder," and I know.
Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom
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