Friday, July 1, 2011

Tabernacle by Cid Corman, 1980




Inscription:

For Frank
Not the former
I waiter, etc - but
what the printers
did. But there are
finally some alternatives
in the offering.
In any event-
the poetry comes-
Much love
Cid


Nothing more
than this. And
this enough.

But no one-
short of death-
admits it.
______________________

Locked in ourselves
hopelessly and
dreaming of hope

So many sills
gaping. We die
until we die.
______________________

Not silent-
night insects-
being born

The bane of
existence
and the point.
______________________

It could snow tonight.
If feels like it. You
have to listen close

to catch the sound of
that first flake. The new
nuance of silence.
______________________

Opening the door
onto the back porch
scaring a sparrow

away-feeling not
only a fool but
a gross intruder.
______________________

The first word
and the last
are to be

poetry-
for we re-
main human.


2 comments:

  1. Claudia,

    thank you for these Corman verses: sweet,generous & insightful as the man must have been.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Conrad,
    Yes, a true poet and most wonderful friend to Frank.

    Claudia

    ReplyDelete