A Poet Reflects

July 14, 2012 with 52 notes
        tags: Anniversary of Myself. Archeology of the Circle. Bruce Weigl.

I had a fifth of somebody’s
whiskey in my pocket.  That night
the liquor kept me warm.  Now
I flitter branch to branch outside your window,
lit with a thousand watts of something
I can taste and feel but cannot see.

I am moth wing in summer sky,
night bird not blinded or butchered
by your unkept, sleepless dogs.

—Bruce Weigl, from “Anniversary of Myself” in Archeology of the Circle: New and Selected Poems (Grove Press, 1999)

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