Walt Ostrander Poems

I.

In all sight touch taste smell
I have known you.
...

Concerning Our Weary Limbs
...

With what resonating mystery
Do strings sound through the gallery?
Eight strong hands with fingers wise
Did I watch with unwavering eyes.
...

O delicate instrument of patience
That sews herself the seeds of life
Two by two behind her past.
Thou answers only with silence as
...

O sweet envelopment of vine,
Warming me heavily with (wonder) damp
Lilacs and soft dew underneath my feet;
I am nakedly clothed by the rain from your bow
...

To live
Is to dream
With Death as a lucidity.
No more will time make
...

It was called red; it was
Beautiful.
Vehement softenings upon such
Strands of life did Her terms of endearment
...

As existence is a tapestry
So have I begun
(And ended)
With colors of and of not
...

Violins market themselves
To the illustrious depressive culture of
Irregular devils
And the staccato signals
...

I thought of a story
One that I’ve had in the back of my mind as long as I can remember,
In the most definitive sense of the phrase.
I thought of a story of a human who thought of a story
...