%1

Read THE COW IS NOW said the child

The cow is now.
 Lowing and chewing,
  no mewing or bowing to spring
  like that upon a rat.
The cow’s no cat.
In grass to eat
  or stream to drink,
  the cow’s a statue against the sky.
Her great head still,
  her eyes staring at you,
  she parks.
A dog remembers you, and barks,
  but the vacant-eyed cow is only now
I mean 
  she lives right now,

So Job died old and full of days

Crammed and jammed
Bursting with days
Job died old and full of days

So full of days
He died
Died from days clotted with friends,
Eliphaz, Bildad and
Zophar
And don’t forget Elihu
Late but stuffed with wisdom too
Friends certain and smug
Wiseacres knowing all
Everything about this life
Except of course the life of Job

Make me plow blade

 

Make me plow blade, implement
for the deep earth, forge me blue
with heat, Lord of flame, blow
strong the bellows, let the bellows
sing, baptize me in song, let ring

anvil, hammer, iron, tong, away
the slag, away the dull, draw me
sharp as the chine of a scythe,
sharp as sun glint, sharp as steel,
Lord of moldboard, coulter, land-

Still life

 

There was a shallow moss gray basin
set with bunches of grapes.
The grapes were chiseled green
with the ripeness of their September harvest.
There was a pert glazed pitcher,
black as obsidian, filled with cold water.
There were six linen napkins
with red diagonal strips
laxly laid by earthenware plates.