Roba of the Changes

There coughs the stars
The fading stories quench
Polished wisdom never hence,
Filing down clipped rows.

Grasp the bracketing particles
Rasping night air with a stare.
Row out to daunting crags where
A fallen rock is participle

To all sown seeds that flare
On windy paths now silent.
Vestiges reform our efforts curved
Out the stream’s muddied glare

Where past is ground pumice cleared
For fortresses hiding where relics seared
The story of convoluted traces
That bring in private a savior feared.

Published by William Cowan

I'm from the East Coast, have lived in SoCal and now Northern California for some years. I've been writing quite awhile, published in 1992 in a literary quarterly: "Suspicious Humanist," vol. 2, #2, (20 pages.) Best job: fm on air personality on a now defunct station, "Evening Eclectic" music show, and a weekly poetry reading show. I played jazz and free/improv I enjoyed. Read Wallace Stevens, John Ashbery, Kenneth Koch, etc. and commented on the poems. I have read once at a local coffee house. Love the Bay Area, wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I am going to appear in an east coast anthology of best new poets of 2010 by the end of the year, published in Pennsylvania. I'm reading once a month at a brewpub in Marin with a group of fellow poets. We read to each other our work, and personal favorite poems of authors we enjoy. It is a pleasure to share with a community of fellow enthusiasts.

Leave a comment