Fieldnotes (II)
ekphrases on English walks
Uplit the level world at nine o’ clock,
and the sun, an old shepherd lying down
among his curious cloudy little flock,
spreads his thickening breath across the ground.
Uplit the level world; even the ground
is uplit in the sun’s humility.
Night looms above the forest, but around
the lower boles, the ninth blindness takes me:
there is nothing at nine o’ clock to see
but the sun’s breath lifting nettle and dock,
the sun’s breath climbing up the old oak tree—
whose leaves’ undersides shudder with the shock.
Happy summer solstice! Today I am enjoying 17 hours, 19 minutes, and 15 seconds of sunlight. Astronomical twilight doesn’t even occur, and evening walks are pure magic.
In this poem I reference “Nine Kinds of Blindness” by Paul J. Pastor from his collection Bower Lodge. Please read it.
My own book is out in July. Preorder now from Prisca Publishing!
To support my work, become a paid subscriber or buy me a steak.
This is divine, I can feel the warmth!
This is beautiful. Thank you.