Old Arrivals

1927 –

2014

Molded in verdigris
Shortly before she died
The Lady stands by herself,
Her electrical hand on fire.

They too in the Harbor
That chops the light to pieces
Looked up at her hand, burning.
Hair, flesh, blood, bone.

They floated in at night
On black water, cargoes
Which may not go back, waves
Breaking the rocks they break on.

It held its head still
while its body and green
legs wobbled in wide arcs
from side to side. When
it stalked out of sight,
I went after it, but all
I could find where I was
expecting to see the bird
was a three-foot-long lizard
in ill-fitting skin
and with linear mouth
expressive of the even temper
of the mineral kingdom.
It stopped and tilted its head,
which was much like
a fieldstone with an eye
in it, which was watching me
to see if I would go
or change into something else.

Galway Kinnell

2018

The Comfort of Darkness

Darkness swept the earth in my dream,
Cold crowded the streets with its wings,
Cold talons pursued each river and stream
Into the mountains, found out their springs
And drilled the dark world with ice.
An enormous wreck of a bird
Closed on my heart in the darkness
And sank into sleep as it shivered.

Galway Kinnell

2018

Poems

Old Arrivals

More by this poet

The Gray Heron

Prayer

The Comfort of Darkness

Poems

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Old Arrivals

More by this poet

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