Poetry Month So Far (I)

[radiantfracture]

(ETA: On reflection, I split these up into two posts to give each poem room to breathe.)

(April 1-2)

As I was going up the stair / I met a man who wasn't there! / He wasn't there again today, / Oh how I wish he'd go away! -- William Hughes Mearns


The other day on those wooden steps cut
Into the tree-dense hill to mark the trailhead
Worrying about meeting grouchy new-risen bears
I met a man, or nearly did, instead.

First I saw his broad back in a brown jacket
His bald patch a beacon in his barky hair
He was labouring a little on the ragged stair
But I knew that old king. Bad knees, both of us

These days. Are you leaving or arriving,
I called up to him. He paused, harrumphed,
lifted his shoulders, lumbered on.
I followed, for there was only one way.

I gave stumbling chase, but could not catch him.
Was he rushing from the field in fright
or hurrying to it, late? I listened:
Bird-alarms, beautiful, and a crow counting off.

At the top of the hill was the highway
Or a field full of flags, a boy with a big stick.
We stumped on, up the down escalator
towards and against the end.

Comments

[intertext]

I love that last line. (not just that, but, you know...)

[radiantfracture]

Thank you! It makes me happy.