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Friday, December 21, 2018

Poems After Reading T. S. Eliot's Advice.


The old hunched shabby tiny lady
Was the one to see
If you couldn't find it in her hardware store
That held everything in the world
In that tiny town by Narberth Station
How many times did she chase you to the door
To make sure
She could get what you wanted?
As you were leaving in a huff, finding it in all the stuff.
Esther on her arthritic hips and legs
Wouldn't let you go empty-handed.

I bet you never saw Esther
At the Metropolitan Opera
Done up,
Warmly wrapped in her long mink coat
Unafraid to work unembarassed.


I could have sat there through all eternity
On that low crumbling stone wall by woods and weeds
A defunct railroad turned out to pasture
Uncut grasses were high and dry that autumn day
Each blade the same and distinctly different
Shimmering in a pale rainbow aura of surprise beauty never known.
The apple in my hand became my hand,my hand the apple
And all was Grace in this morning of the world.
I bit and slowly savored the sweet sourness
Of Eve's mouth with all the world after to come.

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