I'm taking part in an exhibition that pairs artists with poets. More about that after I finish the work. For today I'm posting a lovely Wallace Stevens poem that a friend posted on Facebook. If I understand correctly, it has not been published.
"In a Cloudy Land"
In a cloudy land
There is a moving river
A deep and moving river
Sliding through gray sand
There is no sound there
Except of moving water
Of deep and sliding water
And of restless air
Two flamingoes pass
One then the other flying
Wearily, over-flying
That watery glass
The flamingoes make me think of my roots in Florida- such funny birds, so beautiful in masses. But of course it's not about that. I think the poem is about living, about being in the unknown, but living each day, staying in motion; and every once in a while, something happens, something colorful and fleeting, interrupting the silence and the gray.
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In which a New Yorker learns to slow down and smell the chamisa.
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