Of Course

Bob, , , 
The arrangement of chaos is, of course, 
As little arrangement as possible. 

And, of course, it matters how summer transgresses
In its unremitting largess.

As tall as the looking out across 
The field fiddled with red dusk.

As bounteous and wealthy as the rolling stone.
An hour sitting quietly at the riverside.

Of course, of course, a turning over of all we found.
Even silence sometimes loses its footing

Into a feeling that tingles with vastness
And the net gain of walking in the rain.

29 thoughts on “Of Course”

  7. I read this silently and then liked it so much I read it again, out loud like I was at a poetry reading. It felt good. So beautiful how this poem slips into a long sprawl in one breath this summer and suppose to rain this afternoon here and now I feel less annoyed because I have to be somewhere at 3:45 and I always go by foot. ain’t got no car. I like it better that way.

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    1. Thanks Steve! That’s awesome you read it out load. Walking it my favorite too. Followed by bicycle. Not too much of a fan of driving…seems to just put me in a bad mood. Unless you’re alone on a country road. But how often does that happen?

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      1. I never got into the driving thing, but i’d like to have that feeling people describe. I mean I’ve driven before, had three or four delivery jobs, but i never got into it. i think the whole gas and ignition thing scares me. The subway i like and trains and according to that logic I should be afraid of planes, but I’m not.

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      2. Cars just seem to separate you from the world around you. Though I had a delivery job once too. I delivered for a bakery. That was the best smelling job I’ve ever had. Fresh baked bread.

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      9. I remember buying a pack of camels there for like a buck something. Looking back now, that place was probably the last of its kind – selling tobacco and probably pipes too, in the same store as prescription drugs.

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      11. I have good news. Not exactly a pharmacy, but the variety store on our suburb’s main drag is still open. Back in the day, you could buy gold fish and then go downstairs and they had endless rows of toys and I think baseball cards too. I’m gonna go back there on my next trip home.

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  8. The last 3 stanzas are gems. The rolling stone made me think of the many times that I’ve stood next to the nearby creek and admired the pebbles next to the water. Those pebbles, like your poem, have great stories to tell 🌞

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    1. Thank you Dave! I’ve always been fascinated by pebbles too. The huge amount of time of water rushing over them, colliding with other rocks, till the are the smooth pebbles we see now.

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