poem-a-day

As a Portent

About this Poem 

“Phrases and voices surround us always, like notes of music whose sources may be just out of sight, out of reach. Pieces of a story, a relationship, a landscape—here I let them coexist without too much worry over explanations. Here too I’m interested in both form and fracture, letting the syllabic lines maintain a rift, a caesura, as part of the rhythm of it all.”
—David Baker

As a Portent

David Baker, 1954

At least there was a
                                             song   timorous of

wing-beat snowdrift ash
                                             of red horizon

then somewhere calling
                                             as under one’s breath

(I did not hope you
                                            would find me wanting)

and the next extinction
                                            on every wing— 

Copyright @ 2014 by David Baker. Used with permission of the author.

Copyright @ 2014 by David Baker. Used with permission of the author.