My steel roof mirrors clouds Like a book the sky left off reading. The story of clouds passing keeps passing, As stories will, even with the book turned over, Even closed, shelved, forgotten; Inside I leave off working And turn my notebook spine up to wonder What kind of story is boring the sky. I don't have to go far for the answer. I don't have to go anywhere. Shall I take up serpents for interest? I have taken up serpents. Shall I refuse happiness? For interest? No, I shall claim the obvious, That hearts are no exclusive province. I shall go outside and lie down in the grass. I shall read the passing clouds, Chaotic, senseless, wise, Unlike anything one finds in reflection. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PORTRAIT OF A BABY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE SOCIOLOGY OF TOYOTAS AND JADE CHRYSANTHEMUMS by HAYDEN CARRUTH DESIRE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MATERNITY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DAT GAL O' MINE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE TEMPTRESS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |