Fragments from an Abandoned Ode

1927 –

1996

The Sicilian bees     They move inside the mind
Our souls are as big as Rome
Her body like a mirror
A statue made of words
The dwarf of love
Bring the wine that heals the summer’s wounds
A wife of freshly fallen snow
The first night of the world—its stars and
     moons still move inside our arteries
Who is the one who carries the horizon in his eyes?
A honeycomb of lies
He writes a letter to his death at 24
10,000 yesterdays gathered on the shelves of
     the library
Leave a photo of yourself behind

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I want to write a poem the birds will understand
and the snakes and stones
the trees with their
secrets and green faces
Let it enchant the dolphins and the whales
when they are courting in the middle of the ocean
Let it talk with the aborigine
who knows the moon’s a person in the sky
And should it be the last poem in the world
let it be among the first in worlds we’ve never
seen where it may talk to rivers

Paul Carroll

2016

Song

To be able to walk along and see
the fierce green sun
the meadow grass the tall gently bobbing weeds
then to take a walk inside yourself
and see trees tall as Tom Thumb
It’s always raining here     It never rains
I’m strolling among the shadows of everyone
     I’ve ever loved
But this morning I was flying with the birds
Not knowing like the map there was a destination
But it was fun
Like making love on Tuesday instead of
     our customary Sunday afternoon
I’ve learned to suffocate death

Paul Carroll

2016

Poems

Fragments from an Abandoned Ode

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Song

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Fragments from an Abandoned Ode

More by this poet

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Song

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