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
Listening in Deep Space
We've always been out looking for answers,
telling stories about ourselves,
searching for connection, choosing
to send out Stravinsky and whale song,
which, in translation, might very well be
our undoing instead of a welcome.
We launch satellites, probes, telescopes
unfolding like origami, navigating
geomagnetic storms, major disruptions.
At the Equinox
The tide ebbs and reveals orange and purple sea stars.
I have no theory of radiance,
but after rain evaporates
off pine needles, the needles glisten.
In the courtyard, we spot the rising shell of a moon,