O, and Green by Paul Hoover

size without design

past without a history

at what height

midday enters

swinging its gate. . .

 

and this much later

presented in language

not in perception

 

the field’s

white design

an old bone sequence

 

contemplation’s  edge

planned as a texture

we are playing

a game of appearance

 

the what world leaks

on the language hand

 

to say another

and mean knife

among the pub crawlers

 

emotional voices

hands in water:

eyeless spies

of a discontent evening                                                 

 

the warm mind shrouded

humorous and astute

rumors we carried                                                                     

 

who cannot endure

silence or size

infinity’s brief

articulation

 

each curve of the water

redesigns light

bends seeing briefly

 

in which pattern

deepening the background

the fourth eye canters   

 

a footprint goes

straight to these windows

 

sand blown sand city

along the coast

restless

 

 

—Paul Hoover

____

“O, and Green” from Winter Mirror (Flood
Editions, 2002)

(via ars poetica)

Carrot Field by Kathy Kilgore