New and Selected Poems Read Online Free PDF Page B

so lightly
when she brushes
against me
    Â 
and the hems of her long skirt
go trailing
    Â 
a bit longer
    Â 
•
    Â 
Nothing
that comes to nothing
for company
    Â 
comes the way a hurt
the way a thought
comes
    Â 
comes and keeps coming
    Â 
all night meditating
on what she asks of me
when she doesn’t
    Â 
when I hear myself say
she doesn’t
Furniture Mover
Ah the great
        the venerable
whoever he is
    Â 
        ahead of me
huge load
        terrific backache
    Â 
        wherever
a chair’s waiting
        meadow
sky
        beckoning
    Â 
he is the one
        that’s been
there
        without instructions
and for no wages
    Â 
        a huge load
on his back
        and under his arm
thus
        always
    Â 
        all in place
perfect
        just as it was
sweet home
    Â 
        at the address
I never even dreamed of
        the address
I’m already changing
    Â 
        in a hurry
to overtake him
        to arrive
not ahead
    Â 
        but just as
he sets down
        the table
the thousand-year-old
        bread crumbs
    Â 
        I used to
claim
        I was part
of his load
    Â 
        high up there
roped safely
        with the junk
the eviction notices
    Â 
        I used to
prophesy
        he’ll stumble
by and by
    Â 
        No luck—
oh
        Mr. Furniture Mover
on my knees
    Â 
        let me come
for once
        early
to where it’s vacant
    Â 
        you still
on the stairs
        wheezing
between floors
    Â 
and me behind the door
        in the gloom
I think I would
        let you do
    Â 
what you must
Elegy
        Note
as it gets darker
        that little
can be ascertained
of the particulars
        and of their true
magnitudes
    Â 
        note
the increasing
        unreliability
of vision
though one thing may appear
        more or less
familiar
        than another
    Â 
        disengaged
from reference
as they are
        in the deepening
gloom
    Â 
        nothing to do
but sit
        and abide
depending on memory
to provide
        the vague outline
the theory
of where we are
tonight
    Â 
        and why
we can see
so little
        of each other
and soon
        will be
even less
        able
    Â 
        in this starless
summer night
        windy and cold
    Â 
        at the table
brought out
        hours ago
under a huge ash tree
        two chairs
two ambiguous figures
        each one relying
on the other
to remain faithful
        now
that one can leave
        without the other one
        knowing
    Â 
        this late
in what only recently was
        a garden
a festive occasion
        elaborately planned
for two lovers
    Â 
        in the open air
at the end
        of a dead-end
road
        rarely traveled
    Â 
        o love
Note Slipped Under a Door
I saw a high window struck blind
By the late afternoon sunlight.
    Â 
I saw a towel
With many dark fingerprints
Hanging in the kitchen.
    Â 
I saw an old apple tree,
A shawl of wind over its shoulders,
Inch its lonely way
Toward the barren hills.
    Â 
I saw an unmade bed
And felt the cold of its sheets.
    Â 
I saw a fly soaked in pitch
Of the coming night
Watching