Monday Morning: Echo, echo, echo…

mem52

I want to write a poem
as simple as a glass of water
or as a piece of bread abandoned
on the table by a child
A poem transparent like a window
light like a winged ingot of lead and
yet heavy like butterflies among city lorries
A poem wrought of invisible words
Whose echo is heard for some hundreds of years
Murmuring like a river, forever.

Stefan Baciu, “Stylus,” trans. Robert Austerlitz, Poetry Northwest


Notes: Poem Source: Memory’s Landscape.  Photo: philippe conquet with mem 52

 

Comments

  1. then write a poem with love with heart with soul…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I would like to write a poem like Mary Oliver or Wendell Berry 🌻

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Monday morning echoes should be less demanding, and lovely in their own right…like ‘coffee, coffee, coffee’…

    Liked by 2 people

  4. I felt myself too, in this poetical mourning touches… so beautiful dear David, Thank you, have a nice day, Love, nia

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Exactly…. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  6. my children and grandchildren and beyond are the poems that i’ll leave behind and will continue to echo forever.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. that is true and beautiful … very pleased with these words

    Liked by 1 person

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