Howard Nemerov Poems
|42.||The View From An Attic Window||4/15/2010|
|43.||The War In The Air||4/15/2010|
|45.||To D—, Dead By Her Own Hand||4/15/2010|
|46.||To David, About His Education||5/3/2012|
|47.||Walking The Dog||1/3/2003|
|48.||Witnessing The Launch Of The Shuttle Atlantis||5/3/2012|
Comments about Howard Nemerov
Because You Asked About The Line Between Prose And Poetry
Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow.
There came a moment that you couldn't tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell.
The waters deep, the waters dark,
Reflect the seekers, hide the sought,
Whether in water or in air to drown.
Between them curls the silver spark,
Barbed, baited, waiting, of a thought--
Which in the world is upside down,
The fish hook or the question mark?