Extra Hidden Life, among the Days. Brenda Hillman
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when we die & when we are born,
middle & upper branches reaching
the planet heart by the billions
during a revolution we don’t see.
Quarks & leptons are cooling
on their infant stems, spinning the spinning
brain of matter, fled to electrical dark
water, species with names the tree
can hold in the shale shade brought
by the ambulance of art;
no one but you knows what occurred
in the dress you wore in the dream
of atonement, the displaced tree in
the dream you wore, a suffering endurable
only once, edges that sought release
from envy to a more endurable loss,
a form to be walked past, that has
outworn the shame of time,
its colors sprung through description
above a blaze of rhizomes spreading
in an arable mat that mostly
isn’t simple but is calm & free—
Brief Walk at Salt Point Park
—seal pups ar-ar-ar- —
& the skin of the soul felt a chill,
especially the left side of the
S, facing the Pacific (specific Pacific
specific Pacific ar ar ar);
sandstock burdock human s pines
(does the s move toward pines or spines?)
— buckwheat hardpan up a hill
finding the rim of the miracle—
fear blue shade sense
blind made what tense
pigmy cypress trill or hill
(knowledge did not wreck experience—)
weather warped & nations fell
over the edge of the miracle—
—What thus doth keep love safe, brittle rhymer
—Depends on what you mean by safe, little climber
(To know without fear the mind of another)
For the Lovers Abandoned in Sunlight
Some friends had broken up—;
i didn’t think they should,
but still… (The bees had also
flown away to the chrome woods—
maybe the workers went ahead, but how?
No one understood—) The lovers
lifted yeses then a no …
Why? (let’s not get into
a whole thing about it …) Their hours never
snagged despair; why could they
not have loved each other more?
One day the hive returned,
like a gold thought in the gray
context of an oversight …
the lovers would find others
all too soon with basic need less
passionate than the first; i went on
with my reading & the bees worked
right up to the finished dusk
as if their house
would stay near mine in a drought-
tested thicket remote in time—
During a Suite by Gaspar Cassadó
Transfixed by the bow
only simply above: sighs of wood
& horsehair breath of the cello,
your azure perceptions /// …
(does it perceive also?)
as if pierced by saudades!
This night far from your pain tangled
with frog song
(such distance to the next town)
& your suffering cannot be measured—
não a luar
in this universal background—
Beneath a Dying Coast Live Oak
—to have made the mistake
of not caring —for one day! —
you stood in the parking lot …
where, on the ground: globe
of the wasp gall (the pupae
cannot peek out
through tiny Garamond ellipsis dots
of the outer shell …)
when suddenly, above:
grrr rrrrr gimme gimme gimme
squirrels trying to mate
in the oak, the dire twain
of their warring tails …
(sex is so much trouble outdoors!)
—the fear the loved ones
would end up alone
since