On Fire
9 poems by
Michael Cope
 

Poetry

Rain
GHAAP
Scenes & Visions
Some Examples of
       Silence
for the time being
Crossing the Desert
back view
Other Poems
Song Lyrics
A Virtual Anthology
YouTube Poems
Cautionary Verses
On Fire



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The Stream

How tenderly the stream flows

among the numberless blossoms

whose heads dip and weave

in the tepid east wind,  how warm

the insect tune, and multitude

the ripe green grasses, rank on rank

through which it runs, carrying

the sky in its light rippled glass.

On either side the land smoothly rises

to farther painted rocks where

trails of all animals smaller than sheep

cross and re-cross in the pale sand,

plenitude of traces marking the

discrete silences of the owl-dark

paths. How easy it would be to

cross with one step this final brook.

On the other bank the shades go,

their forms stretched long or reduced

by the sun. They pace in line,

the men with strong calves,

the women’s breasts free in air.

A child walks with them, another

is carried high on the shoulders

of her father. At every moment

they dissolve to nothing, flake

away. Soon their thousand years

shall return to smooth stone.

How quickly the rain will cease

and the stream go back to sand,

the blooms wither to dust

in the wind, the diligent ants

bringing in their stores curl up

to be blown away, the shades

on the other shore dissolve to light;

and how lightly we will cross over,

with a single pace,  our children

beside us or on our backs.