I Love Robert Bly

Like the New Moon I Will Live My Life

by Robert Bly

When your privacy is beginning over,
How beautiful the things are that you did not notice before!
A few sweetclover plants
Along the road to Bellingham,
Culvert ends poking out of driveways,
Wooden corncribs, slowly falling,
What no one loves, no one rushes towards or shouts about,
What lives like the new moon,
And the wind
Blowing against the rumps of grazing cows.

Telephone wires stretched across water,
A drowning sailor standing at the foot of his mother’s bed,
Grandfathers and grandsons sitting together.

Robert Bly from Like the New Moon, I will Live My Life
© White Pine Press, 2015.