tiny poems by Grant Hackett
space in the attic gave birth to hush.
then heat then hands. ages of dust fell from the hands.
dew on a faultless mountain.
sunlight is a room where nothing
is forgotten. a gate left open.
poems one would be glad to have written.
i see the child grieve in her mother's waters.
cracked basin. skeleton earth. rainbows
above the weak should end in iron. not gold.
like a red corpuscular heart. like the swim
in a midnight harbor. with the strength of curved lines.
spirals. i saw the rings of saturn.
who is ironweed. is the holy
motive of wildflower. green begins to rain
inside chrysalis. and within rain's iron interiority. a torch.
may your voice be the cord that
lowers my heart. through foam and stone.
into the flow of the ancient green.
the blue hills open a window.
i greet the poem with calloused hands.
silence ticking in the walls.
our few possessions are weighed leaving the bus.
some clothes, a few toiletries. all we will have.
whether dying forward. whether living back.
we stand at the edge of drowning.
the water is small. familiar and unknowingly
deep. silent fish slip through the night around us.
the path opens between the eyes of a deer.
a child discovers his infinite sky.
my hands stroke a wind that has lived out its life.
nothing raked the wind. no cry
split the trees. until
what was born fell silent.
rusts and weaknesses pool in low
lonely places. where i thought water would listen
to the mouth of every sigh.
not to know stones are alive, i
could not converse with silence.
my shadow would rest.
death will remove its shoes. and
the heart begin its return migration
alone. walking on water. breathing stone.
the small poem :: knife of brief life
another world's end.
dimensions of the box:
silence by silence by silence.
lift up the sheet where
sleep spills its blood.
ferns drip in the shade.
huge blue wings rise, fly. flow away.
listen and hear nothing.
lake unhurried. clouds fully awake.
such turmoil in dreams! so many
souls unliving! psyche's cauldron brewing
ashes, a beginning....
we begin our heart with one wing