neat tiers of books
huge flocks of words
captured and corralled
in such a way
that you begin to think
nature
is understandable.
but step out the door.
words do not flit through the air
words do not squirt through the ground
things and non-things slither and pulse
neither directed nor truly described
by our most perfect sentences.
the best we can do: just touch, wonder
and keep writing
*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
I like this: it’s clever, raises a smile, and murmur of “hear! hear!”. Very neat opening lines!
Thanks, John. Appreciate your comment…and nice to know someone’s reading the poems!