Howard Nemerov Poems
|41.||A Spell Before Winter||1/3/2003|
|43.||The Host, He Says That All Is Well||4/15/2010|
|45.||The Goose Fish||1/3/2003|
|46.||Learning The Trees||1/3/2003|
|48.||Learning By Doing||1/3/2003|
|49.||September, The First Day Of School||1/13/2003|
|50.||Because You Asked About The Line Between Prose And Poetry||1/3/2003|
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 Blue Swallows
Across the millstream below the bridge
Seven blue swallows divide the air
In shapes invisible and evanescent,
Kaleidoscopic beyond the mind’s
Or memory’s power to keep them there.
“History is where tensions were,”
“Form is the diagram of forces.”
Thus, helplessly, there on the bridge,