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Letterally
An abecedary of poems by the late, great Joan Colby.
60 pages, Paperback
First published November 5, 2020
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November 5, 2020
We are the publisher, so all of our authors get five stars from us. Excerpts:
G
The policy of a ghost is to walk lightly
So only the most sensitive will despair
Of the indignities of generation—how the body passes
From gross to guile. The Green Man haunts
The lonely garden. Interpret his garbled language
If you dare. What is genuine can be guarded
With intelligence, a genius for discovery.
Gold destroys the forests of Brazil. Grasslands
Abbreviate the glory of the canopy.
Goodness is scraped from topsoil.
The ghost that whispers to gentle souls
Glows like a will-o’-the-wisp, then goes out
Like a candle in a storm.
Get me another, shouts the gremlin
Of our old wishes, our old granite
Improvisations, our old beliefs in the gaudy
Gloves of the gods.
W
Wait up, we said as children
Wanting inclusion, the generous words
We barely understood. We wished
For everything. The diamond waters
Sparkling offshore where whales
Spouted and warships cruised
The horizon. A great wave rises
In the Japanese woodcut. A warning
To the wise, perhaps, or a willingness
To imagine. Don’t waver. We need to
Worship, to will ourselves westward
Where the sun falls off the edge
Of the world. Wait up, we whisper.
G
The policy of a ghost is to walk lightly
So only the most sensitive will despair
Of the indignities of generation—how the body passes
From gross to guile. The Green Man haunts
The lonely garden. Interpret his garbled language
If you dare. What is genuine can be guarded
With intelligence, a genius for discovery.
Gold destroys the forests of Brazil. Grasslands
Abbreviate the glory of the canopy.
Goodness is scraped from topsoil.
The ghost that whispers to gentle souls
Glows like a will-o’-the-wisp, then goes out
Like a candle in a storm.
Get me another, shouts the gremlin
Of our old wishes, our old granite
Improvisations, our old beliefs in the gaudy
Gloves of the gods.
W
Wait up, we said as children
Wanting inclusion, the generous words
We barely understood. We wished
For everything. The diamond waters
Sparkling offshore where whales
Spouted and warships cruised
The horizon. A great wave rises
In the Japanese woodcut. A warning
To the wise, perhaps, or a willingness
To imagine. Don’t waver. We need to
Worship, to will ourselves westward
Where the sun falls off the edge
Of the world. Wait up, we whisper.
Displaying 1 of 1 review