Poems November 2003
Forest Sculpture
Horns locked into blue air, head posed to tear
a patch of forest out of its repose,
this form was hurled down by Capricorn
to match a remembered self.
Earth reshaped what it sawfire gods hardened
the surface to a dark shine, spirits of the woods
added their whim of tree stump and branch.
Butting faint starlight above the corridor
of trees, now Capricorn barely knows
its analogue whose glance seems to admonish us,
and like a divinity looks heavenward
we turn our backs on the earth
that shaped us, the sky of our minds
lighting the forest.
New to The New Criterion?
a patch of forest out of its repose,
this form was hurled down by Capricorn
to match a remembered self.
Earth reshaped what it sawfire gods hardened
the surface to a dark shine, spirits of the woods
added their whim of tree stump and branch.
Butting faint starlight above the corridor
of trees, now Capricorn barely knows
its analogue whose glance seems to admonish us,
and like a divinity looks heavenward
we turn our backs on the earth
that shaped us, the sky of our minds
lighting the forest.
Colette Inez
New to The New Criterion?
Subscribe for one year to receive ten print issues, and gain immediate access to our online archive spanning more than four decades of art and cultural criticism.
Subscribe
This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 22 Number 3, on page 37
Copyright © 2023 The New Criterion | www.newcriterion.com
https://newcriterion.com/issues/2003/11/forest-sculpture