Two Poems
by
John Hollander
A STATUE OF SOMETHING
The great wooden figure of The River is finished, and yellow
And brown shadows attach themselves to the interior
Of the sculptor's studio, where he stands holding the hand
Of the short, naked lady as she steps down from her platform.
He is leading his model out into interpretation,
Life after art, re-engagement with a world whose shadows
Are insubstantial and always full of motion.
They are like the surface of water on the river
In
which the model will swim, rejoining a broken
Circle of representations dancing in the sunlight,
Given a common substance by their chorus of shadows.
Presiding wood, fresh water, unpainted flesh,
On which the inland waves flash with an excitement
Beyond mere grandeur, more fragile than the language of
shadow
With which, for example, a painter might make his own
Late afternoon representations to the spirit of figures,
Showing all this, showing it what it had meant.
SOME OF THE PARTS
In
the assurance of oncoming twilight that there is
A vast, pliable space containing regions of our life
That keep entirely in touch, day and night will not crack
Apart. The light on the cold grass will leave slowly, rising
Out of sight, and its claim on colors will be relinquished.
All surfaces wiil tacitly assent to this. The shell
Of night will start singing into the ear of the day's shell,
And they will have been washed in the one sea that is all depth
And no surface, yea,even like the little pond dwelling
