Friday, June 17, 2016

Floating Trees By C. D. Wright

Floating Trees
By C. D. Wright

a bed is left open to a mirror 
a mirror gazes long and hard at a bed 

light fingers the house with its own acoustics 

one of them writes this down 
one has paper 

bed of swollen creeks and theories and coils 
bed of eyes and leaky pens 

much of the night the air touches arms 
arms extend themselves to air 

their torsos turning toward a roll 
of sound: thunder 

night of coon scat and vandalized headstones 
night of deep kisses and catamenia 

his face by this light: saurian 
hers: ash like the tissue of a hornets’ nest 

one scans the aisle of firs 
the faint blue line of them 
one looks out: sans serif 

“Didn’t I hear you tell them you were born 
on a train” 

what begins with a sough and ends with a groan 
groan in which the tongue’s true color is revealed 

the comb’s sough and the denim’s undeniable rub 
the chair’s stripped back and muddied rung 

color of stone soup and garden gloves 
color of meal and treacle and sphagnum 

hangers clinging to their coat 
a soft white bulb to its string 

the footprints inside us 
iterate the footprints outside 

the scratched words return to their sleeves 

the dresses of monday through friday 
swallow the long hips of weekends 

a face is studied like a key 
for the mystery of what it once opened 

“I didn’t mean to wake you 
angel brains” 

ink of eyes and veins and phonemes 
the ink completes the feeling 

a mirror silently facing a door 
door with no lock no lock 

the room he brings into you 
the room befalls you 

like the fir trees he trues her 
she nears him like the firs 

if one vanishes one stays 
if one stays the other will or will not vanish 

otherwise my beautiful green fly 
otherwise not a leaf stirs

C. D. Wright, “Floating Trees” from Steal Away: New and Selected Poems.



quid said...

What a beautiful, beautiful poem. Read it three times... the unusual way the poet forms thoughts and small snippets of description really spoke to me.

Thank you! quid

Marion said...

I love Ms. Wright's poetry. Sad that she died not long ago. Thanks for stopping by, Lynn! xo