At the swamp bank
On something's back,
One point twinkles
At a rippled edge,
Rising, falling.
Something
Climbed out or in
Under wind on a planet
With weather orbiting
A star --its light caught
On the moon and
From there
Cast to rise,
Fall, here, where
Things are.
Billions of years
Back began a plenum
And a bog,
At the moment,
So monstrous and
Gentle it will not
Sink a frog.
I love the way you make the word scintilla come alive here the way Poe did with his word sussurate. To me, that's one important measure of poetry!
ReplyDeleteWill
Marvelous! I had a prof who used the word in a pejorative way in talking about and marking students essays: "not worth a scintilla." thanks for reclaiming the concept for me!
ReplyDeleteWill