Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
Angels in lycra glide by on the riverbank
the phalanx on the bicycle path repeated in black water
upside down. Drifting ducks vex that mindless orange synchrony
of pumping knees with bald impassive heads of iridescent green.
Ne-ver-the-less!—the ducks quack—should blood
well up on mown grass from a heroic last stand hereabouts
it is given to you to breathe in only the given moment.
A balsam poplar shakes out resplendent hair
leans into a magnolia in fragrant bloom
each great waxen chalice not proof of heaven
but heaven itself. The mallard chief becomes his feather cloak.
Three of his cohort ride the current, one paddles upstream
getting nowhere, two graze on a trove of duckweed bottoms up.
Midway through the latter end of life I find myself
drowsing in clover under an ancient willow
by a placid stream at the edge of the known world
beset by dandelions on the brink of paradise.