“Children, I said to her. For the first little while, they not exactly human, you don't find?”
Nalo Hopkinson

Monday, March 5, 2012

Poem For Today. Stacy Tuthill

This poem is from Weavings 2000: Poetry For The New Millennium.  Edited by Michael S. Glaser.

"At The Library"

See the young girl
beside the window
bending over a book,
her dark hair shines
with floating dust fired
by sun tilting through glass.
See how she lifts her face
to the wall, see nothing,
seeing everything.
She is not here,
yet she is here.
I see her motionless,
tense but perfectly still,
She rides the invisible
flow of inspiration,
on a stream of language,
probes her own ideas
fused with vast musings
from the book she holds
open with slim fingers.
She fashions her own visions
guarded by a mysterious smile,
suspends the moment - a flash
where life gushes and flows
in a fountain of light.
My heart tells me
the young gather food
for the mind as naturally
as sparrows hunger for ripe
seeds sorted form grass.

Stacey Tuthill  (March 10, 1925 - October 19, 2010) resided in Baltimore, Maryland.


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