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Showing posts with label Joseph Stroud. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joseph Stroud. Show all posts

Saturday, August 1, 2015

"Meadowlarks and Hawks" by Joseph Stroud



A farm road
in the San Joaquin
heading into the red dirt
of the gold country
miles and miles
of fencerows
with meadowlarks
singing on the wires
the song of one
entering the song
of another
all down the road
window open
I hear song
trailing
into song
the road continuing
as far as I can see
and every mile or so
on top
of a telephone pole
sits
a red-tailed hawk
shoulders hunched
turning his slow
iron gaze
over all he claims
of the singing world



"Meadowlarks and Hawks" by Joseph Stroud from Of This World. © Copper Canyon Press, 2009.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

"Directions" by Joseph Stroud

             "In the Valley of the Nidd, Yorkshire" by Edmund John Niemann, Photo by Museums Sheffield

                                              How weary, stale, flat, and unproiftable
                                                        Seem to me all the uses of this world 

                                                           — Hamlet

Take a plane to London.
From King's Cross take the direct train to York.
Rent a car and drive across the vale to Ripon,
then into the dales toward the valley of the Nidd,
a narrow road with high stone walls on each side,
and soon you'll be on the moors. There's a pub,
The Drovers, where it's warm inside, a tiny room,
you can stand at the counter and drink a pint of Old Peculier.
For a moment everything will be all right. You're back
at a beginning. Soon you'll walk into Yorkshire country,
into dells, farms, into blackberry and cloud country.
You'll walk for hours. You'll walk the freshness
back into your life. This is true. You can do this.
Even now, sitting at your desk, worrying, troubled,
you can gaze across Middlesmoor to Ramsgill,
the copses, the abbeys of slanting light, the fells,
you can look down on that figure walking toward Scar House,
cheeks flushed, curlews rising in front of him, walking,
making his way, working his life, step by step, into grace.

"Directions" by Joseph Stroud, from Of this World. © Copper Canyon Press, 2009.