Saturday, November 5, 2011



I go to the mountain side
of the house to cut saplings,
and clear a view to snow
on the mountain. But when I look up,
   saw in hand, I see a nest clutched in
   the uppermost branches.
   I don’t cut that one.
   I don’t cut the others either.
   Suddenly, in every tree,   
   an unseen nest
   where a mountain   
   would be.

   for Drago Štambuk

Tess Gallagher, from Midnight Lantern: New and Selected Poems, 2011

   Courtesy of The Poetry Foundation

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