Jared Carter – Three poems

jared carterJared Carter lives in Indiana. His fifth book, A Dance in the Street, is available from Wind Publications in Kentucky. His sixth, Darkened Rooms of Summer: New and Selected Poems, is forthcoming from the University of Nebraska Press. Additional poems and stories may be found on his web site at www.jaredcarter.com.


Neglected for a hundred years
and yet they say
At dusk the caretaker appears
to cut the hay

And set the fallen stones upright.
Where yucca spires
Its pale white clusters into night,
his ghost inquires

If they will help him with his task?
Those far below,
Mistaken now for flowers, ask
that it be so.


Such music will not come again
until some voice,
Enraptured, takes the words, and then
not quite by choice

Breathes into them that holy fire
of paradigm
And passion sweetly joined. The spire
endures, outlined

Against the far horizon. He
who would perceive
The window’s blaze of rose must be
down on both knees.


Died in his sleep, the story goes,
and that frisson
Reminds us of those Eskimos
who float beyond

The ice into the open sea,
after their time
Has come. But not so readily
are we inclined

To contemplate that dream – the mist
that moves upon
The water, there among the drifts,
and then is gone.

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