A poem for Monday

There's something so beautifully plain about the poetry of Aram Saroyan that when I think I might read out loud this bit or another, I sometimes find it missing the force of what I felt when I first read it. Because his words don't twirl and pirouette. They amble along as he takes everything in. And I think my happiest moments are when I feel the way Saroyan's poems feel; attuned to everything, needing nothing, part of the world, but still singular in my own mind. This is from Day & Night: Bolinas Poems

Everything is going about its business
The plums are ripening
Poets are living in hovels, ecstatic
As living models of what you can do
If you can't do anything else
Children are playing with each other
In modern updated dramas of Mama & Grandma
A little boy stands at the window, watching snow,
And thinking snow, too, through other thoughts
There's a wonderful quality now, suddenly,
To the light on the porch as the moths flutter
And the fragrance in the air is pure and rich
The ocean is going constantly
Along with the highways and the all-night take-out joints
People are getting in accidents, dying, and being saved
Related Posts with Thumbnails