Poem From & to An Kim 1977

A Poem from An Kim & A Poem for An Kim,  circa 1977

epistle to st. james

the largo from xerxes I

has been performed

again, admirably, by symphony

where are those ducks?

water ducklings meet

themselves crossing

a john hancock sky

don’t let yr heart

crouched close to the liver

(as we know) lose heart.

don’t forget you are made

a little lower than

angels

not my words, kid

but the movies

bought the book.

and probable.  don’t forget the ducks

wh had no babies

this summer anywhere in the green.

remember the park.

remember the largo caught

on the time zone radio

before your next final

exam.  you have to do

something else now.

keep both oars

in the water.  hate your fingers

for a few months.

and adore your hands.

                                                                             --An Kim

Poem of the Waxing Summer

                 

                                for An Kim

We speak of nacre nights

w/moon no higher than the nape of the neck

the city imposed upon herself

violent water in closed jar

the outer  hovelling of fire

warmth positing herself

complete, upon a shelf

a gold & blue globe

                                                I am a bellows

full with blowing

winds that ne'er crept across the floor

to flute the child’s naked brown lashes

the busting of vessels

& the clothing of hawks

the shatter of her laugh

against wood aimlessly light

the sky pale & taunt

moves a blue persimmon.

                                                                jmf-w  30 mar 77