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(24 May 1940 – 28 January 1996 / Leningrad)

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A list of some observation...

A list of some observation. In a corner, it's warm.
A glance leaves an imprint on anything it's dwelt on.
Water is glass's most public form.
Man is more frightening than its skeleton.
A nowhere winter evening with wine. A black
porch resists an osier's stiff assaults.
Fixed on an elbow, the body bulks
like a glacier's debris, a moraine of sorts.
A millennium hence, they'll no doubt expose
a fossil bivalve propped behind this gauze
cloth, with the print of lips under the print of fringe,
mumbling "Good night" to a window hinge.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004


Read poems about / on: winter, water, night

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Comments about this poem (Letter to an Archaeologist by Joseph Brodsky )

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  • Stephen W (2/27/2014 3:53:00 PM)

    Quite odd, but amusing in parts. Would have been better without the bivalve.

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rosa Jamali (7/1/2010 5:43:00 AM)

    Very creative, couldn't be any better!

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