Pond Song 4.32
No finite whole is absolutely self-supporting as a contingent happening. (William Desmond)
The country falling apart__the moon restores the tide
wastewater mixed with salt__fat mallards catch a ride
smart money feeds on itself__my wetland mind breathes in
essences of windblown beach rose__brick chokes the horizon
oak tree tops wind’s highway__our heroes fall elsewhere
may these rhymes fall together__seagulls split the air
Tom D’Evelyn: I’ve been writing Pond Songs for many years now. I have not submitted any for publication. I do “publish” them at metaxysongs.com
I am a retired editor. I was books editor at The Christian Science Monitor in the 80s. After the paper imploded, I worked at Harvard University Press as a humanities editor; at Boston University as a managing editor; and at Brown University in the President’s Office. Meanwhile, I ran a literary agency for ten years. When I retired, I continued to teach private students in Portsmouth New Hampshire. I blog, too.
I explain the project in the about page at metaxysongs.com They fuse several traditions, English and Chinese.