Night Crow

 

1. Night Crow

(a) When I saw that clumsy crow Flap from a wasted tree, A shape in the mind rose up: Over the gulfs of dream Flew a tremendous bird Further and further away Into a mindless black, Deep in the brain, far back.

(b) Yet when I heard the drunkards howling Smelled the carrion at entrances, Saw women, their eyelids like little rags, I said: On all these, Death, with gentleness, come down.

2. River Incident

(a) A shell arched under my toes, Stirred up a whirl of slit That riffled around my knees. Whatever I owed to time Slowed in my human form; Sea water stood in my veins, The elements I kept warm Crumbled and flowed away, And I knew I had been, there before, In that cold, granite slime, In the dark, in the rolling water.

3. The Minimal

(a) I study the lives on a leaf: the little sleepers, numb nudgers in cold dimensions, Beetles in caves, newts, stone-deaf fishes, Lice tethered to long limp subterranean weeds.

4. Transplanting

(a) Watching hands transplanting, Turning and tamping, Lifting the young plants with two fingers Sifting in a palm-full of fresh loam,— One swift movement,— Then plumping in the bunched roots, A single twist of the thumbs, a tamping and turning, All in one, Quick on the wooden bench, A shaking down, while the stem stays straight, Once, twice and a faint third thump,— Into the flat-box it goes, Ready for the long days under the sloped glass.

(b) The sun warms the fine loam, The young horns winding and unwinding, Creaking their thin spines, The underleaves, the smallest buds Breaking into nakedness, The blossoms extending Outside the sweet air, The whole flower extending outwards, Stretching and reaching.

5. Big Wind

(a) Where were the greenhouses going, Lunging into the lashing Wind-driven water So far down the river All the faucets stopped?— So we drained the manure-machine For the steam plant, Pumping the stale mixture Into the rusty boilers, Watching the pressure gauge Waver over to red, As the seams hissed And the live steam Drove to the far End of the rose-house, Where the worst wind was, Creaking the cypress window-frames, Cracking so much thin glass We stayed all night, Stuffing the holes with burlap; But she rode it out, That old rose-house, She heavy into the teeth of it, The core and pith of that ugly storm, Ploughing with her stiff prow, Bucking into the wind-waves That broke over the whole of her, Flailing her sides with spray, Flinging long strings of wet across the roof-top, Finally veering, weaving transluscent, merely Whistling thinly under the wind-vents; She sailed until the calm morning, Carrying her full cargo of roses.

6. Last Words

(a) Solace of kisses and cakes and cabbage, That fine fuming stink of particular kettles, Muttons tears falling on figured linoleum, Frigidaires smoking the sleep of plants The psyche writhing and squirming in heavy water,— O worm of duty!, O spiral knowledge!

(b) Kiss me, kiss me quick, mistress of lost wisdom, Come out of a cloud, angel with several faces, Bring me my hat, my umbrella and rubbers, Enshroud me with light! O whirling! O terrible love!

(c) A cold key let me in That self-inflicted hint; And I lay down with my life, clothes, With the rags and rotting With a stump of scraggy fang Bared for a hunter's boot.

7. Judge Not

(a) Faces greying faster than loam—crumbs on a harrow: Children, their bellies swollen like blown-up paper bags, Their eyes rich as plums, staring from newsprint— These images haunted me noon and midnight. I imagined the unborn, starving in womb, curling Gasping: May the blessings of life, O Lord, descend on the living.

10. Child on Top of a Greenhouse

(a) The wind billowing out the seat of my britches, My feet crackling splinters of glass and dried putty, The half-grown chrysanthemums staring up like accusers, Up through the streaked glass, flashing with sunlight, A line of elms plunging and tossing like horses, And everyone, everyone pointing up and shouting!

11. Flower Dump

(a) Cannas shiny as slag, Slug-soft stems, Whole beds of bloom pitched on a pile, Carnations, Verbenas, Cosmos, Molds, weeds, dead leaves, Turned-over roots With bleached veins Turned like fine hair, Each clump in the shape of a pot; Everything limp But one tulip on top, One swaggering head Over the dying, the newly dead.

12. Carnations

(a) Pale blossoms, each balanced on a single jointed stem, The leaves curled back in elaborate Corinthian scrolls; And the air cool, as if drifting down from wet hemlocks, Or rising out of ferns not far from water, A crisp hyacinthine coldness, Like that clear autumnal weather of eternity, The windless perpetual morning above a September cloud.

13. Frau Bauman, Frau Schmidt, and Frau Schwartze

(a) Gone the three ancient ladies Who creaked on the greenhouse ladders, Reaching up white strings To wind, to wind The sweet-pea tendrils, the smilax, Nasturtiums the climbing Roses, to straighten Carnations, red Chrysanthemums; the stiff Stems, jointed like cane, The tied and tucked,— Those nurses of nobody else. Quicker than birds, they dipped Up and sifted the dirt; They sprinkled and shook; They stood astride pipes, Their skirts billowing out wide into tents, Like witches they flew along rows Keeping creation at ease; With a tendril for needle They sewed up the air with a stem; They teased out the seed that the cold kept asleep,— All the coils, loops, and whorls.

(b) I remember how they picked me up, a spindly kid, Pinching and poking my thin ribs Till I lay in their laps, laughing, Weak as a whippet; Now when I'm alone and cold in my bed, They still hover over me, These ancient leathery crones, With their bandanas stiffened with sweat, And their thorn-bitten wrists, And their snuff-laden breath blowing lightly over me in my first sleep.

17. Silence

If silence had hands, I would have reached for stars. If silence had feet, I would rush for my dreams. If silence had tongue, I would speak the truth. If silence had eyes, I would see beyond oceans. If silence had colours, I would paint the sky red. If silence had wings, I would fly to horizons. But silence is just an expression, So I would keep it with me forever.

18. Darkness

Go away night, go away now. Let me feel happy for a while. As the day will soon grow. You are scary and dead, Giving me tremors, In and out of the bed. Come for a short period, As creeps come with you, And go when not required. Day is always good. For the brightness it brings, Shading everything nice under its head.

19. Road Safety

They play hide or seek, Around a while parked on the way, What dangers they seek, On the road as they play. There is no safety, The roads are turned into parks. Gilli danda, cricket or football, They play here games all, What worth is winning the game, When you may lose it all. Street players do dare, Getting crushed and injured in fights, Their greatest chase is dad's car. Or brothers bike, Where will you see the frenzy like, This on bikes gunning, car whizzing - Kids driving is no kidding. Who is to blame? Parents, teachers or school. What does it matters, everyone takes it cool, Traffic police has a terrific time, Putting road rumors ahead.

20. Friendship

Friendship is the pathway, come true That leads to dreams Friendship is like a star, Which seems to be blooming Like a flower, Friendship is an acorn, Which is filled with emotions. Friendship is like a mirror, Handle it with great care, If once broken, It would be hard to repair.

21. Time

Time is a beauty on earth, Which runs fast from birth Time is very precious, Run to the ambitious. Time is not to waste, As it doesn't wait. Make haste, Or you will be late. Respect time, And everything will go fine.

=> My heart With a little help from friends, Why do my eyes get moist, Ever so often? Why does a warm, Cozy feeling cuddle, My heart. And the words, "God in His Heaven, And all's well."

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