Epithalamium Poem by Bob Hicok
Epithalamium
A bee in the field. The house on the mountain
reveals itself to have been there through summer.
It's not a bee but a horse eating frosted grass
in the yawn light. Secrets, the anguish of smoke
above the chimney as it shreds what it's learned
of fire. The horse has moved, it's not a horse
but a woman doing the stations of the cross
with a dead baby in her arms. The anguish of the house
as it reveals smoke to the mountain. A woman
eating cold grass in Your name, shredding herself
like fire. The woman has stopped, it's not a woman
but smoke on its knees keeping secrets in what it reveals.
The everything has moved, it's not everything
but a shredding of the anguish of names. The marriage
of light: particle to wave. Do you take? I do.
A bee in the field.... It's not a bee but a horse The horse has moved, it's not a horse.... but a woman a woman.... with a dead baby in her arms it's not a woman... but smoke on its knees..//.. Sorry, couldn't grasp the meaning or make any sense out of it. As a matter of fact, this doesn't fit anywhere into the definition of an Epithalamium. Thanks.
from the leaves of grass after a day the dazzling light sprinkles the heart of love for the marriage moon..............
" With a dead baby in her arms" ! Sadness. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
it's not a horse but a woman doing the stations of the cross with a dead baby in her arms......so touching. Beautiful poem.
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12/13/2024 6:10:02 AM # 1.0.0
The marriage of light particle to wave." Worthy to be modern poem of the Day.