"Embers" (Henri Cole)

April 24, 2008

"Embers"

Poor summer, it doesn’t know it’s dying.

A few days are all it has. Still, the lake

is with me, its strokes of blue-violet

and the fiery sun replacing loneliness.

This is my burrow, my nest, my attempt

to say, I exist. A rose can’t shut itself

and be a bud again. It’s a malady,

wanting it. On the shore, the moon sprinkles

light over everything, like a campfire,

and in the green-black night, the tall pines

hold their arms out as God held His arms

out to say that He was lonely and that

He was making Himself a man.

–Henri Cole
from Blackbird and Wolf

Tags: henri cole, poetry, readings