Voice of the Ridge By C.D. Wright
I was devastated to hear of the death yesterday of my favourite poet C.D. Wright. What a loss to world poetry. My favourite poem of hers is not online so I will post it here as a tribute.
Voice of the RidgeBy C.D. Wright
Something about a hazy afternoon−a long drive about cedars spearing the skySomething about a body at a crossing about a dog missing a paw about buying a freshly dressed henSomething about the locus of the dead
Something about a strange town on a weekend about large white panties on a lineAbout a table in a family-owned café an old morsel on the tinesSomething about the owner dragging one footSomething about wine from a jelly glass
Something about a hazy afternoon−a long drive about no purse no stockingsSomething about unfolding the map about a cemetery that isn’t kept up about grasshoppers−their knack for surpriseSomething about finding a full set of clothes in the weed
Something about a hazy afternoon−a long drive about hills of goldenrodSomething about filling-station attendants the one blue hole in the cloudsSomething about birds of prey−the locus of the dead
Something about the long drive home−a slow sundowning about the din of insectsSomething about straight gold hair on a pillowSomething about writing by the kingly light in the quick minutes left before lips suction a nipple from wrinkled linen
http://visualpoetics.com
Voice of the RidgeBy C.D. Wright
Something about a hazy afternoon−a long drive about cedars spearing the skySomething about a body at a crossing about a dog missing a paw about buying a freshly dressed henSomething about the locus of the dead
Something about a strange town on a weekend about large white panties on a lineAbout a table in a family-owned café an old morsel on the tinesSomething about the owner dragging one footSomething about wine from a jelly glass
Something about a hazy afternoon−a long drive about no purse no stockingsSomething about unfolding the map about a cemetery that isn’t kept up about grasshoppers−their knack for surpriseSomething about finding a full set of clothes in the weed
Something about a hazy afternoon−a long drive about hills of goldenrodSomething about filling-station attendants the one blue hole in the cloudsSomething about birds of prey−the locus of the dead
Something about the long drive home−a slow sundowning about the din of insectsSomething about straight gold hair on a pillowSomething about writing by the kingly light in the quick minutes left before lips suction a nipple from wrinkled linen
http://visualpoetics.com
Published on January 14, 2016 08:03
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