by Roger W. Hecht
Dabbling with discipline, the long delay,
I gravitated towards duration, predictable change.
She visited with the spirit
Coupled with pitch of my pleasure
Recording unashamedly my
“Erato.” I used to be only recall, an
Echo of future utility. I realized the
Translation failed: I was not
Mingled with the sound of the rain, I was set
Up having laid down
Stiff and static, an accident
In a bed of knives and forks, ignored,
Confined to the ambience but not the
Environment. The ardour suggested a
New way of hearing light,
One channel charmingly so.
Island Records, 1975
Roger W. Hecht teaches literature and creative writing at SUNY, Oneonta. His first book, Talking Pictures, was published by Cervena Barva Press. His poems have appeared recently in Diaphanous, Sheila-Na-Gig, and Yes Poetry. He lives in Ithaca, NY.