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![Still Water by Patricia Fargnoli
[epigraph] "What times are these when a poem about trees is almost a crime because it contains silence against so many outrages." Brecht [/end epigraph]
And why not silence?
Ahead of me, Goose Pond parts pale water
and my canoe slides through into June sun, cathedral quiet,/soft plumes of cloud.
A thin gauze of rain stalls over Mt. Monadnock.
This is the way I drift
from each skirmish with the world
to the diplomacy of light
as it flares off the water./flickers among the flute-notes
of birds hidden in the leaning birches.
Would you condemn me?
I've already held the old bodies of grief
long past morning; leave them
to the ministrations/
of the dirt-borers
who work what is finished back into the earth.
Some atrocities are beyond redemption--
you know them already--
the world will be the world no matter.
I want the blinding silver of this small pond/to stun my eyes,
the palaver of leaves to stop my ears.](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:i7wdqgtc3q5yfqmgo3jawi5s/bafkreidf6y2ecooeueyto2inkwqsy6s3onnx6mli3bea5j6bys7ly43iu4)
