A poem for Mike from Pauline Butling: (from Phyllis Webb's book titled Water and Light) Here's the Phyllis Webb poem again. I hope this time it comes through with line breaks. My email version didn't work.
Grey-eyed dryad, have you seen one if only for the sound of
grey-eyed dryad. Or gull gone into blue empyrion, the lift
of wind fabulous, flowing, free-for all. Nothing is pure praxis,
axis of this globe sends degree by degree us into curved
path of portent, accident, perishable eye-sad dryad. Look at her. Here.
The varied thrush, the orchard oriole, the crying dove, the skin-smooth olive
A poem for Mike from Pauline Butling: (from Phyllis Webb's book titled Water and Light)
ReplyDeleteHere's the Phyllis Webb poem again. I hope this time it comes through with line breaks. My email version didn't work.
Grey-eyed dryad, have you seen one
if only for the sound of
grey-eyed dryad. Or gull gone
into blue empyrion, the lift
of wind fabulous, flowing, free-for all.
Nothing is pure praxis,
axis of this globe sends
degree by degree us into curved
path of portent, accident, perishable
eye-sad dryad. Look at her. Here.
The varied thrush, the orchard oriole,
the crying dove, the skin-smooth olive
green, olive-green, with a red
pimiento
heart.