Saturday 8 August 2026
Neither words nor ideas come easily at one in the morning. Have I mentioned my text editor is never in dark mode? Not enough contrast for my eyes.
I haven't read a poem in a while. Weeks, but not months (thank you, Ariel).
But writing one? It's been at least a couple years. In English? That could be measured in decades.
Last one I read was Lost by David Wagoner. That's a good poem. I'm going to share that one with you now.
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
Lost (1999) by David Wagoner in Traveling Light: Collected and New Poems. University of Illinois Press