Poet Jane Hirshfield said "... the feeling I have about poem-writing (is) that it is always an exploration, of discovering something I didn't already know.  Who I am shifts from moment to moment, year to year.  What I can perceive does as well.  A new poem peers into mystery, into whatever lies just beyond the edge of knowable ground."

I bring a different poem to the writing classes each week, not only to inspire but to introduce new poets to the group members.

Night Scene: Pitch

Low wail of night and its unseen chitterings, sweeps of tail 
        on dead leaves, slow
rustle and creep of ferns.

The dark on it’s own terms and us	
        racked out in a room
reeked with cedar and shaved wood, this handmade cabin.
	Two windows, the pitch		

of hot night, the creaky lean of spruce and fir.  We’re restless,	
        years stacked behind like kindling.
Where have we left to go, together?

	Two shrieks pack the dark; bird call, a human
timbre and panic.  The night endures, slips onward, becomes all sound,
	slick of stream-burrowed branches, rivulets tunnelling
thin-skinned trucks; drip, slide—

	still outside’s parched and brittle, holds its breath,
waiting for rain.

At light, under the rattle and gab of waxwings and crows,	
        we find the river’s source in swells of sawdust
like sugar on the russet floor; carpenter ants, their constant fluid chewing.
	Glossy heads big as thumbnails.

Morning expounds this	
        mystery— but what of those other walls
	        we’ll lean an arm through—

~ from Cityscapes in Mating Season (Signature Editions, 2017)


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with the exception of 'poems of the week' where © copyright remains with the poets or their publishers