A Summer with Tu Fu
by Hayden Carruth
to the small poem and the quiet voice within
What does it mean, master,
inadequate obeisance to your
that two old guys speak to one another
futility after years of futile awkwardness
You have the advantage of a natural world
in familiar unchanging dust. And I
young woman, who is a poet too, to share
presume, yet with you, as nothingness
See how the heron folds her neck
After all perhaps we are the same. Who can
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Oooh, more Tu Fu – Somehow everything is more personal these days, especially from Tu Fu (Du Fu). This is lovely. I’m not very familiar with Carruth–will remedy that.
Pathos. Sweet, tender, accepting. A sadness like
a sunset fading.
Beautiful. Still the best thing on the web.
Thanks, Norb. Somehow, a perfect autumn poem.
At The Eden Roc Motel 6 / 27/ 86 Los Angeles CA
Dusting
A
Page
Ripped
And
Rolled
From
Ephesians
Coke
Residue
Why does an oriental poet/philosopher strike such a wistful streak here. Perhaps its the search for a lost traquillity we wish we had. The time to dwell on a heron’s curling neck!