but couldn't hold it. Whose ring was it,
on the wiry hand- And by the bye
who added good- To hell who added
O? The curves wellt wavery, and lit the earthen
neighborhood. (Of signs, who knew
the high fronl low-) The sun
went out-a message fi'om
the bull's-eye
to
the bow...
CHARLES TOMLINSON
Watching Water
Why is it water, standing f(Jr itself,
R.uns to so many meanings- I watch
The nickerings, the nash, the out-and-through
Past bridges, bank-side, nank
Of sa nd that rains have thickened to obs truct
Its progress and have failed. The stream
That was brown and dark all day
At evening takes- in the low li ght
Of yellow sundown and begins to brighten.
Th e same stream where it nows through the wood
Seems to run over f()i1: its whisperings
Fall then, splashing ofT the hillslope,
To tiny metallic crashes: it springs
And bounds across the va ll ey next,
Still swift, but fuller now, a bodied sound,
Invitation
to
view the gathered present
Thing it is- watched water,
Voicing a sinuous way ncar into
f~lr.
