Poets’ Corner: Desk 2


You who have yet to learn

To lean on me, endure

A darker night than any before,

Or by candle light

Let me beckon you farther.

No ghostly haunts, no hesitation

No spilled flutes

Of imagined celebrations

Of published works

Stains my open hand.

Grand it is that you do not know

When you are least steady.

I will silently support

More than you

Have yet to imagine.

If it is a bright day

I will pardon your absence

Without that glance

That calls you back

To do your bidding.

If it is raining

I may be so young

To not swell and deny

You the glow

Of an unsheathed nib.

And in the snow

That must always fall

Erasing all words and punctuation,

Come to me,

I will be your plantation.

Jim Lowell is a winter mainlander and summer Cuttyhunk poet whose works have appeared in The Canadian Review of Literature, English, The Caribbean Writer and elsewhere.