Dawn By the Great Lake

Dawn By the Great Lake

The gulls are circling endlessly
arc after arc over the landscape
to see, with outstretched wings,
the shape of what is known for them
below.

A pass south over muted brick, asphalt,
mulberries weeping fruits on plots of green,
flags and bunting, empty verandas,
the dog who lifts a leg and moves on.

Turning into the blaze of east
they enter the arc that leads
thru the still horizontal light and ends
with a north going
to the unclaimed sky.
The lake edge disappears, the water’s surface
runs below. Out and out they glide
over the inland sea until the arc’s moment
breathes at last.

Landward again.
The birds close up in a smaller circling
wings tilted to eye the shape of things below
what has been added, what has
been taken away
and all about are windows
open to rooms of sleeping bodies.

Ours is the one with the
blue hydrangea in a glass on the sill.
Ours is the one with the man turned
to the girl, even in his sleeping.
Ours is the one that comes at
this moment, under the arc of wings,
under the eye that looks
to see the shape of what is known
and passes on.
.

PBSweeney

Advertisements

One response to “Dawn By the Great Lake

  1. “Ours is the one with the man turned
    to the girl, even in his sleeping.”

    It takes the breath away, such love. Thankyou.
    What a great website! — P

    P.S.In my picture, the “girl” is a “woman”.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s