by
Mark Irwin
Mark
Irwin's poetics are a direct descendent of Rilke and Hart Crane.
His poetry is propelled by charged rhythms and a lush music.
"An impeccable craftsman, Mark Irwin writes with a lyrical
intensity that somehow combines the brilliance of Valery and the
natural ease of observation of William Carlos Williams."
- David St. John
Passing
It
is now
this late evening in April
among
first irises and bees I realize
they
were opening doors Mary
Robert
and
William I want to say
of clouds sunlight
rain
now
Didn't we notice the arrows
of
hearts hands
leaping toward an unmapped
when
No age no place though all of one
light
Somewhere beneath that cloud
in
a little town
a white door is opening
maybe
for nothing but wind
but we will all
one
day be there
I mean when opening is finally enough
©
BOA Editions, Ltd 2004
Available editions:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Paperback
ISBN 1-929918-52-6
Price: $14.95
Publishing Date: May 2004
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