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The Complete Poems of A R Ammons, Volume 2

Page 17

by A. R. Ammons


  snow crust

  10checking out the garbage routes,

  his head down in a trance of cold,

  lacking scent:

  it’s time to give the spectral magic up, let

  the eaves’ jewel-work go to waste:

  15it’s into Sunday morning and not a can is out.

  Red Shift

  My begonia blossoms are

  pale as a speleologist’s

  windpipe, this winter

  a cave’s clouds we’ve been

  5traveling in: but, now,

  the end of January is

  breaking the sky into shale

  the sunlight cracks through:

  I’m moving the begonia

  10closer up to the window:

  when the freeze-foliage

  on the panes burns off, the sun

  will draw bright blood back into blossom.

  1985

  Saving Spending

  My little way

  though the

  least way is

  of the same way

  5(assimilation and surprise)

  as any

  though it can

  go

  on, I suppose,

  10branching, only

  a little way:

  but out to

  its twiggiest

  end, perhaps, curlicues

  15of its directions

  survive &

  loosening waywardly

  find their

  way back to

  20a

  new way that

  radiantly

  roves or slightly

  abandons the universe.

  1982

  Long Sorrowing

  My path’s so

  frail it’s

  hardly discernible

  from

  5wilderness: no

  gravelway

  laid and no

  signs up:

  brookbanks are

  10unmodified for crossings,

  the flies ghastly:

  but when I

  tire I take up

  backing with

  15a boulder too old for any event

  and doze and

  listen for

  existence

  in its

  20water-like

  deep,

  the voices of

  ciliates & crustaceans

  among

  25tracings and fernprints

  held in a dark unanswerableness

  to so much loss.

  1982 (1986)

  Eidos

  On those late March afternoons

  when a flurry nearly rain

  eases over and the few big

  flakes, old flies, stall,

  5lift, dive, sweep in a slow

  loose-knotted breeze, I watch

  the lineations of the dance, air’s

  least-holding script, whose

  figures carve on my retina

  10motions the mind mulls over

  and subdues to

  intelligible reticula, informing shapes.

  1981

  White Passages

  Peaks and rivers, cold

  soggy passes, declivities,

  willows

  in the quartermoon river bends,

  5stalk-dead

  row

  willows high, moon-chalky

  at floodline:

  sparrows

  10light on, walk out on

  weedstalks to bleak heads’

  enormous swaying,

  skinny clouds running

  the sun moonwhite.

  A Way Away

  Some spring thunderstorms, blunderingly

  following on thaws, are so breezy

  they get an old leaf

  up that falling into updrafts

  5can’t get down:

  the wind will, leaping

  out of held moil, lift

  the leaf higher than did any

  tree

  10and the leaf in the chancy

  currents will wobble

  like a butterfly

  and gravity will seem to lose

  trace of it, and it will

  15angle up till wandering off you

  forget to notice if it ever lands.

  1984

  Pots and Pans

  So what if the reality

  out there’s inert

  (though the brook flows on)

  until

  5imagined and, imagined,

  changed,

  transfused and

  tinctured,

  made out

  10in glassy, mirroring

  human separations:

  still, the ground base

  appears much more

  differentiated than

  15brook shale or grist tailings,

  the reality

  out there includes,

  as we suppose,

  have gained the careful

  20intricacy

  to suppose,

  consequential and random

  sequences, organizations

  into high points

  25from which all men may

  at whatever height

  of imagination learn:

  unless there is a place,

  where is such a

  30place and how

  could it be,

  empty, paradisal,

  a still point from

  which, all things

  35come together,

  radiance glimmeringly

  _________

  emerges, or more

  deeply, from which

  the coming in

  40and going

  out of things has

  lost distinction:

  then the reality

  found there, empty,

  45seems like a place

  the mind made

  though the mind

  imagines it found it

  there first and

  50then perceiving it

  “came into it”—

  rippling gamelans

  build imperceptible

  stillnesses

  55just over their

  bongs and

  clinks, an emptiness

  as of figured

  light, a permanence

  60the mind’s home.

  1981 (1984)

  Aquarium Watch

  Surfaced, the snail pokes

  a tube into the air

  and takes in a shell full:

  when he gets too much

  5and, let go to sink,

  floats, trapped weightless,

  he measures and measures,

  as if studying, then

  tilts and a single

  10sized bubble escapes the shell rim:

  and down he goes, as if

  dreaming gravity’s smoothest dream.

  Earliest Recollection

  Thaws snow-clear the fields

  and woods, and leaves

  snow’s small weight

  touched down last fall

  5crinkle to the breezes

  and rise gathering dry

  to dash about, whirl

  with the liveliness

  of the dead re-winded,

  10the end of stories not their

  story’s end,

  everything

  else too naked to

  swish or starkly sway and

  15nothing else free to travel.

  1981

  Liquidities

  The biosphere waterbased

  figurations here—

  leaves, flies, flakes—

  durance is as it were

  5uphill against the wind,

  prolificacy profligate,

  prolix strewings like

  showers shedding windy out

  of spruce woods after storm

  10(though it’s only spring,

  already showers

  from the tiny-seeded maple

  of go
ldenheaded tadpoles,

  woven tails sprinkling

  15wet asphalt)—staying

  is offish, dropping into

  underbrush of established

  woods, the chance a

  chance blow will

  20twist something rotten off

  or a fire quick clear

  shading out density of limb

  and vine—or even if

  chance allows the hold

  25life, the crest of the

  hill comes, the wind shifts,

  gravity pulls the heldback

  motions apart, the motions water.

  1979 (1986)

  Surgeons

  The debranching foot-wide wound

  that lightened the big siberian

  elm has mooned into

  the second summer,

  5shiny with sap and slick

  meal lanky

  worms and maggots have,

  tunneling, mapped

  and beetles have

  10stood sipping

  in: but yesterday’s

  damaging winds and

  downpour scrubbed the wound

  scum-clean, and now

  15the old news

  of its

  growth shines in staffs

  of round music

  bright to exact count’s

  20interval and ring.

  1985

  Motion’s Holdings

  The filled out gourd rots, the

  ridge rises in a wave

  height cracks into peaks, the peaks

  wear down to low undoings whose undertowing

  5throws other waves up: the branch

  of honeysuckle leaves arcs outward

  into its becoming motion but,

  completion’s precision done, gives

  over riddling free to other

  _________

  10motions: boulders, their green and white

  moss-molds, high-held in moist

  hill woods, stir, hum with

  stall and spill, take in and give

  off heat, adjust nearby to

  15geomagnetic fields, tip liquid with

  change should a trunk or rock loosen

  to let rollers roll, or they loll

  inwardly with earth’s lie

  in space, oxidize at their surfaces

  20exchanges with fungal thread and rain:

  things are slowed motion that,

  slowed too far, falls loose, freeing debris:

  but in the ongoing warps, the butterfly

  amaryllis crowds its bowl with bulbs.

  1985

  Burnout in the Overshoot

  The first cool spell has

  cracked the white asters open,

  samples here and there,

  and tomorrow’s promised warmth will

  5stir a few bees loose:

  there’s something besides

  death and nothingness

  even if winter is coming:

  and, anyway, death isn’t

  10a place you get all the way

  to: as you arrive

  what is arriving

  _________

  diminishes and

  finally, touch to touch,

  15nothing is equal to nothing.

  1979 (1984)

  Telling Moves

  The hawk before the dusk storm

  drops into,

  rounding out a stoop

  the same

  5as ever, but I’m

  no longer true:

  the willow’s gold’s green again,

  wept branch-withes

  floating as if

  10away on gusts, flared

  fountains, but I’m

  not getting things right:

  the old fall

  off in a doze or,

  15frozen to a kind of interest,

  meet the pain presentably,

  but I’m

  not standing out in any clearing:

  hawk and willow, the stilt-right

  20arrivals of the old:

  the grave, I cannot accept it,

  there is no way to give it up.

  1979 (1986)

  Coming Round

  The oar squeaks,

  a dash sound like

  moon-hustle on the river:

  reeds

  5trap and ease the

  boat slow

  to ripple-tilting sanddown:

  the night, a

  bubble,

  10hangs two hundred

  thousand miles by

  a moon-filament:

  I tie up, head for the single

  windowlight:

  15I cut the moon free.

  1984 (1985)

  Recoveries

  The universe loosens, disperses,

  dissolves away until its

  veils, drifted fine, sway entangling

  on themselves into new knots

  5of concentration & high

  condition: meanwhile, in the

  immediate system shelving

  away, there must be constant

  throwing off, cutting back

  _________

  10to hold the firm

  defined: genetic material’s

  extravagant loss along the

  edging peripheries of accident,

  poor formation, mischance,

  15unwholesome surprise must be

  defended against, compensated for—

  where does the tiny whining,

  insisting energy come from that

  sings stuff back together,

  20resilient threads, bends, promoting

  shape through time: though

  the universe is dissolving,

  minor countermotions mix

  out from which are derived

  25flares of form, modes of slim

  continuance, mounting

  lofts, mingling seed.

  (1984)

  Trivial Means

  We don’t want to be just

  the narrows or shambles through which

  great motions make their way:

  we want to know why or how

  5the motions stirred first

  and whether their moves are

  prefigured or moment-to-moment

  providentiality and surprise:

  we make capability’s show

  _________

  10of discerning outline,

  of recognizing and measuring

  true, and we don’t understand why,

  servants to flesh, we must also

  subserve realization, knowing no

  15more than we find out and only when

  we can, death merely breaking us

  away from that: the elements don’t reply,

  not on a day like this,

  wide openness the blue cage, though

  20they jar at times, report, drown,

  strike: this language spoken in

  lives under overpassings of necessity.

  1979 (1986)

  Tracing Out

  What buoys the butterfly,

  the world’s

  weight, I project: slow

  motions of the bleakest

  5metals and stones

  suggest, like an

  intelligence, the undeniable

  possibility; on that,

  the wind,

  10thread muscles and plastic

  joints, the butterfly jounces:

  but lightness, like making

  sense, is just more of

  the world’s weight

  15momentarily fined:

  tissues of sense, spun out

  of sense filaments,

  become clumpy trees, roll

  jungles under: bound way away:

  20the world’s weight’s the world’s.

  1982 (1985)

  Some Any

  What do you have if you can’t waste it,

  what good is it if you have to dam it

  up to dip it out,
<
br />   what is anything worth if not so

  5common it isn’t worth anything,

  why fool with anything so scarce you

  have to be grateful for it,

  why if surprised you had a thought today

  bother to think at all

  10when the thought is as best itself

  plentiful and dirt cheap,

  why love at all if diminishing love you

  have only enough for Tuesday,

  who needs anything he really needs,

  15where could the necessary be found if

  not anywhere where where

  1975 (1986)

  Memory

  When everything is leveled off

  even with the ground

  will a brier or reed

  figure

  5us up to the light again:

  where so little’s made of

  difference

  will we

  recover immortality’s mindfulness

  10in a shoot’s leaf:

  from indifference will we

  put together enough

  yearning

  to gouge the dark loose: or when

  15sand skins the ground

 

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