423b2e
423b2e

9.16.2012

nocturne



That scraping of iron on iron when the wind   
rises, what is it? Something the wind won’t   
quit with, but drags back and forth.
Sometimes faint, far, then suddenly, close, just   
beyond the screened door, as if someone there   
squats in the dark honing his wares against   
my threshold. Half steel wire, half metal wing,   
nothing and anything might make this noise   
of saws and rasps, a creaking and groaning
of bone-growth, or body-death, marriages of rust,   
or ore abraded. Tonight, something bows
that should not bend. Something stiffens that should   
slide. Something, loose and not right,   
rakes or forges itself all night.


~ Li-Young Lee
from Rose

xxx

4 comments:

J Cosmo Newbery said...

A quite beautiful rendition of a quite normal action.

red dirt girl said...

Poetry Foundation has this poem sub-labeled: Poems about Ghosts and the Supernatural .....

This is one of those occasions that I wish I could hear the poet's thoughts on the subject.

Sinister - maybe .... but supernatural/ghosts - REALLY ???

xxx

SL said...

"Tonight, something bows
that should not bend. Something stiffens that should
slide. Something, loose and not right, rakes or forges itself all night."

This brings to mind those "I can't believe it's 3 AM and I am still awake" nights!

red dirt girl said...

Oh you are so right, SL !! What a great example. Those are my favorite lines in the poem ... wish they had been mine :)

xxx