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Song - a poem by Simon Armitage
ghiberti
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2-5-2008 4:48 PM
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tags:
poetry
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writing
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england
,
simon armitage
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<div style="margin: 12px 0px; font-family: arial; color: #333333; background: #ffffff; border: solid 4px #e5e5e5; width: 100%; clear: left;"><div class="CM_CTB_Content_Wrap" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;background-color: #ffffff;"><div style="border-bottom: solid 1px #dcdcdc; white-space: nowrap; margin-bottom: 8px; background-color: #eeeeee ;background-image: url(http://clipmarks.com/images/source-bg.gif); background-repeat: repeat-x; height: 24px; line-height: 24px; vertical-align: middle; padding-bottom: 4px; color: #666666; font-size: 10px;" ><a href="http://clipmarks.com/clip-to-blog/" title="see clips that are hot right now"><img src="http://content.clipmarks.com/blog_embed/33e7321d-594b-44e2-97d1-be310ea7c91f/B2CEBD0A-7CB5-4F4B-AFF7-E71A8A42ED1E/" alt="" width="19" height="19" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; margin: 0px 4px; display: inline; border: none; float:none;" /></a>clipped from <a title="http://www.thepoem.co.uk/poems/armitage.htm" href="http://www.thepoem.co.uk/poems/armitage.htm" style="font-size: 11px;">www.thepoem.co.uk</a></div><blockquote style="text-align: left; padding: 0px 8px; margin: 4px 0px 8px 0px; background: transparent; border: none;" cite="http://www.thepoem.co.uk/poems/armitage.htm"><STRONG>Song</STRONG></blockquote><div style="height: 2px; font-size: 2px; background: #dcdcdc; border-bottom: solid 1px #f5f5f5; margin: 2px 4px;"></div><blockquote style="text-align: left; padding: 0px 8px; margin: 4px 0px 8px 0px; background: transparent; border: none;" cite="http://www.thepoem.co.uk/poems/armitage.htm"><P>The bridle-path, the river bank, and where they crossed I took a length of hazel bark, and carved a boat no bigger than a fish, a trout, and set it down and saw it float, then sink. And where it sank an inch of silver flesh declared itself against the sun. Then it was gone.</P></blockquote><div style="height: 2px; font-size: 2px; background: #dcdcdc; border-bottom: solid 1px #f5f5f5; margin: 2px 4px;"></div><blockquote style="text-align: left; padding: 0px 8px; margin: 4px 0px 8px 0px; background: transparent; border: none;" cite="http://www.thepoem.co.uk/poems/armitage.htm"><P>And further south, beyond the bridge, I took a nest of cotton grass and flint to make a fire. Then watched a thread of smoke unhook a pair of seed propellers from a sycamore which turned together and became a dragonfly that drew the smoke downstream. But the fire would not light.</P></blockquote><div style="height: 2px; font-size: 2px; background: #dcdcdc; border-bottom: solid 1px #f5f5f5; margin: 2px 4px;"></div><blockquote style="text-align: left; padding: 0px 8px; margin: 4px 0px 8px 0px; background: transparent; border: none;" cite="http://www.thepoem.co.uk/poems/armitage.htm"><P>Then at night, the house at the mouth of the river. Inside, a fish, a trout, the ounces of its soft smoked meat prepared and on a plate. I sat down there and ate. It is the way of things, the taking shape of things, beginning with their names; secrets told in acts of sunlight, promises kept by gifts of rain.</P></blockquote></div><div style="margin: 0px 6px 6px 4px;"><table style="font-size: 11px;border-spacing: 0px;padding: 0px;" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"><tr><td style="background:transparent;border-width:0px;padding:0px;"> </td><td align="right" style="background:transparent;border-width:0px;padding:0px;width:107px" width="107"><a href="http://clipmarks.com/share/B2CEBD0A-7CB5-4F4B-AFF7-E71A8A42ED1E/blog/" title="blog or email this clip"><img src="http://content6.clipmarks.com/images/c2b-foot.png" border="0" alt="blog it" width="107" height="17" style="border-width:0px;padding:0px;margin:0px;" /></a></td></tr></table></div></div>
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