& then afterward

POEM (From the Poetry Foundation):

& then afterward by Nate Pritts  

   (i)

 

    I woke to early sun:

    burning of fire, & then afterward.

 

    We kept reaching

    through the long night.

 

 

    (ii)

 

     Afterward,

 

the small deceptions

we allow ourselves:

a sickness, unchecked.

Like this:

 

 

    (iii)

 

     & first sunlight.

     Snow continues.

     I could never close my eyes to light.

 

     But there was no light

     & you looked like night.

 

 

    (iv)

 

     There must be a pattern,

 

s   now slow-dropping in wet clusters

     through the wooden arms

     of empty trees.

 

 

    (v)

 

    Sun fingering its way

    through branches

 

    I’d hung my life on.

    We don’t matter a bit; realization

    forces our eyes closed—

 

 

(vi)

 

A sickness, unchecked, like this.

I’d hung my life on

 

burning of fire, & then afterward.

 

 

(vii)

 

Our arms together

we searched for patterns

 

& sunlight.

 

 

(viii)

 

Our arms laced together,

pointing together

over wind-tossed grasses.

 

Us: waist deep in night blue.

 

 

(ix)

 

There was no light.

You pointed.

 

 

(x)

 

Sun overhead,

you pointed

to the wind-tossed grasses.

This is a memory now.

 

 

    (xi)

 

    Together in that first sun,

    so vivid:

    there must be a pattern

 

    I’d hung my life on.

 

 

    (xii)

 

S   now dropped in clusters,

    staggered & jagged.

 

    We don’t matter a bit.

 

 

    (xiii)

  

    Reflected in lake water:

    all these things I’ll forget.

 

 

(   xiv)

 

     Our arms together

 

     but we keep reaching

 over the wind-tossed grasses.

 

 

(xv)

 

Black smoke curling:

 

the importance

of night-blue field grass,

 

 

(xvi)

 

the importance of.

 

The stars are close; we try to hold together.

 

 

(xvii)

 

All this ends

but until then:

 

burning of fire, & then afterward.

The stars are close; we try to hold.

Such distance between the fallen!

 

 

    (xviii)

  

    Burning of fire, & then afterward.

 

    You pointed.

 

 

(   xix)

  

    Grasses silently fold,

a   sickness, unchecked, reaching. Like this.

 

     Wooden arms of trees

     long since emptied.

 

 

    (xx)

 

    This ends in darkness,

&  all the stars within reach,

&  other constellations.

Nate Pritts, "& then afterward" from The Wonderfull Yeare (a shepherd’s calendar). Copyright © 2009 by Nate Pritts.  Reprinted by permission of Cooper Dillon Books. www.cooperdillon.com

Source: The Wonderfull Yeare (a shepherd’s calendar) (Cooper Dillon Books, 2009)

Afterward. 

It is.

Comments

[Chris]

Lovely...

[Gale]

Very nice. And nice to see you online...

[Elspeth]

Gorgeous knitting!

[Marji]

I ADORE Mary Stewart. I need to dig out my copies and reread her (because I don't have enough on my to-read list ^_^).

[Marji]

I ADORE Mary Stewart. I must needs dig out my copies for a reread. She may be just what I need!

[Kim]

That's amazing. Thank you.

[Mary Lou]

Nice. Thanks.

[joan]

xoxo

[Angie]

Lovely. Nicely illustrated.

[Julia]

You always find the best poems. Thanks.

[Amy]

Beautiful.

[opal]

just wanted to say i miss ya!

[Geraldine]

Wow!!! I enjoyed reading this beautiful work and seeing your latest WIP, it's going to be beautiful too.

[Rachel]

Wow. What a poem...I may have to print this one out to reread and ponder from time to time.