Open Water

Chapter 69: I SAT IN THE SUNLIGHT

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About This Book

The collection gathers spare, free-verse lyrics that eschew end-rhyme and regular meter to pursue personal and elemental subjects. Many poems dwell on desire and longing, sensual and existential hunger, moments of solitude and memory, and the natural world; others turn to urban scenes, work, and masculine camaraderie. Imagery moves between windswept landscapes, domestic rooms, and industrial sights, often alternating muscular vigor with quiet introspection. Short, varied pieces emphasize mood and direct voice over formal constraint, examining mortality, the impulse to change, and the tensions between yearning for connection and enduring isolation.

I SAT IN THE SUNLIGHT

I sat in the sunlight thinking of life;
I sat there, dreaming of Death.
And a moth alit on the sun-dial's face,
And the birds sang sleepily,
And the leaves stirred,
And the sun lay warm on the hills,
And the afternoon grew old.

So, some day I knew the birds would sing,
And the leaves would stir,
And the afternoon grow old—
And I would not be there.
And the warmth went out of the day,
And a wind blew out of the West where I sat,
And the birds were still!