By Matthew Francis
After Robert Hooke
All afternoon a reddish trickle
a sort of rust that shines and dances.
traveler finicking its way round
A finger felled in their path rocks them,
the air for subtle intelligence,
They are fidgety subjects to draw.
kill one, the juices evaporate
I dunked one in brandy. It struggled
I let it soak an hour, then dried it,
the grinning vice of its sideways jaw,
Some draft stirred it then. It rose to all
Source: Poetry (October 2014)
More Poems about Nature
I want to put down what the mountain has awakened.
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where again it waited months for seasons to change
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