November 25th, 2002

little review

Poem for Monday

Lynx Light
by Tess Gallagher


The quilt has slipped
my shoulders. And when
you kiss the knots
in my fate like that
it's as if a lynx
co-exists with a housecat.

Give me winter for constancy
and looking back: most silent because
most decided.

Teach me how to shed
this cold devotion
by which memory
is exchanged for alertness.

Come and go with me--sickle,
black tail lashing this
transparent net of birdsong.

* * * * * * * *

Watched the first half of Troubles last night while folding laundry. Sean Bean eats a carnation. Between this and Viggo eating a dead rose in The Prophecy, I'm starting to get into a distinctly Georgia O'Keeffe frame of mind.