Marsh Hawk Review is an online poetry journal sponsored by the Marsh Hawk Press collective. Marsh Hawk Review will appear twice a year, under the revolving editorship of collective members. Each issue will offer a selection of poems solicited by the editor, in addition to new work posted by poets in the collective.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

PAUL PINES


ANDREW WYETH ENTERS HEAVEN, PART II


Let there be light

not for the sake


of light itself

earth and stone


as light catchers

dissolving flesh


melting landscapes

oxidized in blood


but for those light

has ceased to touch


the sun adrift

in a fever dream


a battlefield

seen through


a gray window

by a bald man


with yellow eyes—

Let there be light


not for the sake

of light itself


the created world

as light-catcher


Let light call forth

the dead


as stones

in our orchards


breakers

along our shore


as waves

breaking against


our nakedness

on a summer day


what commands

light because


it wounds us

with its brilliance





TWO POEMS FOR DOUGLAS


1


Rosh Hoshana


You ask me if I think

The tree says Kaddish

For each falling leaf?


This is what I think:


You and I know

the shedding of days

in time is

as a single day,

buried

in all the meaningful

moments that go

to seed except

in the perishable

memory of

a few


2


The Folded Triangle


Holding on to something

Past but still alive inside


One forgets and then

When one remembers


It seems so important

Not to forget again


I want to say that

Forgetting is a merciful act


But when what is recalled

Feels essential to being


who one is in the present

I am not sure.


We all live through what

we see and don’t see


And it becomes

the story of our lives




THE DEATH OF POSTERITY


getting ready for my journey—

trying to clear a space in my head

a/head of time


the snail skin of now

leaves a barely

perceptible

trail of

slime


within the arc

of unanswerable

questions


so many angry angels

watching over it

so many sad

angels too


I am writing a poem

on the death

of posterity


a dead letter to

a virtual you


to say that within the arc

of unanswerable

questions


I have always arrived

and departed

on time


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