Category Archives: The Sky

The Stars Turn in Silence

Most nights when you are not here I open my window and listen To how the wind moves in the trees Like your breath quick in my ears. No wind tonight since sunset. The stars, Restless as always, turn in … Continue reading

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The Feet of Blue Herons

If you happen to live in another town, Or country, or even galaxy As dim and distant in time as in space From these words, this language, the narrow Range of pitch across its plosive phonemes, Do not worry if … Continue reading

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Looking West Across the Marsh, Late Afternoon

The herons are preliminary Scrawls, penciled faint against the sky, Most with their bodies tilted at forty-five Degrees to the imaginary Horizon at the vanishing point, Gliding in on barely discernible arcs; Two are turning and curling their wings In … Continue reading

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Lilacs Convulsed the Sea

Hello again, it’s been a while Since we walked that lonely mile Together to an empty beach Full of silences we couldn’t breach. The moon brimmed full—all promises Of love and lingering kisses And quiet mornings with words unsaid That … Continue reading

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Until I Swept

I went looking for another Poem for you. I searched everywhere: In the tang of marshes open To the sea; in the billowing Clouds spread across a winter sky; In the neck of a blue heron, Curved, questioning water. I … Continue reading

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While the Wind Tangles Your Hair

I want to sit with you in the shade While the wind tangles your hair Listening to you talk of things that exist Listening to you talk about the spectrum The spectrum on which things are portrayed The arbitrary nature … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Consciousness, Cosmology, Couplets, Epistemology, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie Poetry, New poems, Physics, Poem tweets, Poetry, Science, The Brain, The Rain, The Sky, The Wind, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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How often in March Counting the lengthening thaws Between ice and snow Do you listen for wild geese Straining against the moon’s weight?

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie Poetry, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, Tanka, The Moon, The Sky, Time, Tropes, Wild Geese, Wild Geese in Spring | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment