In Poetry: Perspective Without Any Point in Which it Might Vanish
by Jane Hirshfield
Jane Hirshfield’s eighth poetry book, The Beauty, and second collection of essays, Ten Windows, will appear from Knopf in Spring, 2015. A current Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets, she has received fellowships from the Guggenheim and Rockefeller foundations and the NEA, been a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award, and her work appears in The New Yorker, The Atlantic, Poetry, The New Republic, and seven editions of The Best American Poetry.
Jane Hirshfield’s eighth poetry book, The Beauty, and second collection of essays, Ten Windows, will appear from Knopf in Spring, 2015. A current Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets, she has received fellowships from the Guggenheim and Rockefeller foundations and the NEA, been a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award, and her work appears in The New Yorker, The Atlantic, Poetry, The New Republic, and seven editions of The Best American Poetry.
Perspective Without Any Point in Which it Might Vanish
The way the green or blue or yellow in a painting
is simply green and yellow and blue,
and tree is, boat is, sky is
in them also--
There are worlds
in which nothing is adjective, everything noun.
This among them.
Even today—this fallen day--
it might be so.
Footstep, footstep, footstep intimate on it.
The way the green or blue or yellow in a painting
is simply green and yellow and blue,
and tree is, boat is, sky is
in them also--
There are worlds
in which nothing is adjective, everything noun.
This among them.
Even today—this fallen day--
it might be so.
Footstep, footstep, footstep intimate on it.
