Learn More

May Swenson

(May 28, 1913 – December 4, 1989 / Utah)

Staying At Ed's Place


I like being in your apartment, and not disturbing anything.
As in the woods I wouldn't want to move a tree,
or change the play of sun and shadow on the ground.

The yellow kitchen stool belongs right there
against white plaster. I haven't used your purple towel
because I like the accidental cleft of shade you left in it.

At your small six-sided table, covered with mysterious
dents in the wood like a dartboard, I drink my coffee
from your brown mug. I look into the clearing

of your high front room, where sunlight slopes through bare
window squares. Your Afghanistan hammock,
a man-sized cocoon
slung from wall to wall, your narrow desk and typewriter

are the only furniture. Each morning your light from the east
douses me where, with folded legs, I sit in your meadow,
a casual spread of brilliant carpets. Like a cat or dog

I take a roll, then, stretched out flat
in the center of color and pattern, I listen
to the remote growl of trucks over cobbles on
Bethune Street below.

When I open my eyes I discover the peaceful blank
of the ceiling. Its old paint-layered surface is moonwhite
and trackless, like the Sea—of Tranquillity.

Submitted: Thursday, April 01, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Staying At Ed's Place by May Swenson )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  2. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
  3. A Life-Lesson, James Whitcomb Riley
  4. Invictus, William Ernest Henley
  5. Christmas Trees, Robert Frost
  6. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  7. The Rainbow's Promise, renu kakkar
  8. Andhere Kaa Deepak, Harivansh Rai Bachchan
  9. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  10. A Poison Tree, William Blake

Poem of the Day

poet James Whitcomb Riley

There! little girl; don't cry!
They have broken your doll, I know;
And your tea-set blue,
And your play-house, too,
Are things of the long ago;
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]