Tag Archives: Alfred Sisley

So we are grasped.

poetry,

A WALK

Already my eyes touch the sunlit hill,
far ahead of the road I have just begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
we see its light, even from a distance-and it changes us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it, we already are;
a gesture seems to wave us on, answering our own wave…
but what we feel is the wind in our faces.

-Rainer Maria Rilke

Maxfield Parrish, Road to the Valley

You are still summer.

calendar, poetry, summer, , ,

TO THE LIGHT OF SEPTEMBER

When you are already here
you appear to be only
a name that tells of you
whether you are present or not

and for now it seems as though
you are still summer
still the high familiar
endless summer
yet with a glint
of bronze in the chill mornings
and the late yellow petals
of the mullein fluttering
on the stalks that lean
over their broken
shadows across the cracked ground

but they all know
that you have come
the seed heads of the sage
the whispering birds
with nowhere to hide you
to keep you for later

you
who fly with them

you who are neither
before nor after
you who arrive
with blue plums
that have fallen through the night

perfect in the dew

-W.S. Merwin

The Cornfield – Alfred Sisley