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G. Enos

of

Sacramento, CA, US

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Untitled

by

G. Enos

I find another
Looking at a maple leaf
Frozen in snow.
A thousand years apart
We share the same thought!
We jostle the same instant!
Clearly if I want
To read your mind
Reaching out is
The wrong direction.


Untitled

by

G. Enos

Hair full of fairylamps,
Downward flutter
Of fingertips,
"This, I am more.
Something else that is
More." And I
Believe her-- a gesture
Stirring stellar dust.
I must.


Untitled

by

G. Enos

Cracked from our
Pond by children
Ice and thoughts
Of ice fill
With sun stacked
Into melting walls
Around memory. In
Thought things
Seek liberty.


Intutled

by

G. Enos

Left open the garden gate again
And marching bands got in. It's
Not like cows which, although
Destructive, are gentle and
Easily led away. You have to
Find the prancing major --
Fuzzy hat and wand, very hard
To catch-- and aim him out.
They follow.
There is a kind of wire. No good,
Snags nothing smaller than
Tubas and morning finds
Marimba boys strangled in
Their straps. More work but
Kinder to just study their
Habits, and when they bulk up
For migration, mind the gate.


Untitled

by

G. Enos

Life was tough
For ancient people
Eating fossils,
Building ruins.
They endured
So we could complain
About modern things
Instead of what
An awfully long
Time ago it is.


Untitled

by

G. Enos

Half of everything
Is the other half.
Arithmetic of faith,
War, sports, and other
Grouchy sorts of
Things to do--
Census, Insurance,
Atomic decay --is
Statistics, but not
The way a bird sings,
Which is a braver
Sort of math.


Untitled

by

G. Enos

Half of everything
Is the other half.
Arithmetic of faith,
War, sports, and other
Grouchy sorts of
Things to do--
Census, Insurance,
Atomic decay --is
Statistics, but not
The way a bird sings,
Which is a braver
Sort of math.


Untitled

by

G. Enos

In iris
Light and color
Course the year.
Bulb, spear, stalk
Crowd seasons,
Push to flares
And bearded falls.
There is ritual
Enough for
Us all.


(1915-2001)

by

G. Enos

When her hearing went
She often said,"I can hear you
But I can't tell what you're saying."
At her kitchen table
Watching a storm pound over
the olive orchard--
Sunlight fled up the field
Toward us, across the creek,
Away from her house
--dark filled the window,
Then blinding blue and
Thunder to the bone.
When the room unrattled
She said,"I heard that.
I just couldn't tell what it said."
I wish again that her hearing
had been better because
I'd love to know.


Untitled

by

G. Enos

Gardens overlapping
Contain together
An open thought
Called and recalled
Into order. Where
Seasons spread
To reflect the
Uncontainable it
Is always a good
Time to find up
One's tools.


Idlenutt

by

G. Enos

It started with an electric
Train set. One thing
Led to another and another
To a model station, Town,
15 billion year old universe
At H.O. scale, which puts
A half-inch me building it
14.85 million years ago.
You see the problem.
There's an expensive tool
That torques axle nuts back
To the pliocene but means
I'll never finish because--
Well you have to choose
Between a bigger hobby budget
Or more religion.
I chose gardening.


untilted

by

G. Enos

Outside curve exceeds inner
And solid axles can't
Divide the difference, so
When trolleys turn on F-line
Down by the bay you get
A quotient screamed
In tortured iron.
Other dinosaurs bray
Bitter back-molar noise
At Embarcadero and
Childhood, but none you'd
Ride up Market Street.


Unittled

by

G. Enos

Moments are really
Yellow mushrooms with
Hummingbird wings,
Which is why your dog
Barks and lunges
At
--to us just whirring
Focal points in--
nothing.
But they see and worry.
Hit with their
Genetic goofystick,
We would too.


Keep This Coupon

by

G. Enos

At the window overlooking
Lawn you have your mandarin
Collar on and remark,
"It's a journey, you know."
Together we walk through
A house empty except for
A cold teakettle in the kitchen.
Whatever else occurs
I shall always love the way
Dust looks on copper.


The Early Rain

by

G. Enos


Brain emerges into
Kitchen light, porcelain,
Nickelplate--
An amnestic rim of night
--into hours, our days,
Perishable novelties
At large in applauding gray.
But for the moment
Immune, across the
Zodiac in kitchens.


Untitled

by

G. Enos

What
Is this
Sense that must
Abandon shape to see
The plenum breathe sentience,
Informal to form,
A flock of bubbles in their
Brief skins, cosmos
Done in little,
Or daisyring
Remembered
In a bee?


Runes

by

G. Enos

Pointy message writ
In runic toolrack appears
To recommend rakes
For Nordic debris.
This from prehistory
Involves airborne myths,
Ygdrasil leaves. Well,
Blowing away what was
Is what wind does,
And I believe
This one means pitchfork.
I need a pitchfork?


Tiltuned

by

G. Enos

Formal hedges are
Only Uniform to a
Degree. Beween edges
Are floral lives,
Tropism, thought and
Space solved in
Deformity. Where care
Includes conformity
It is vaguely disturbing
To be anyone.


Firefly

by

G. Enos

Where red camellia and
Ululant peacock cross
A spark hovers.
Moving index in light
Recovers a vanished world,
Edges, stems soldered in
Pearls where fog
And woodruff fuse.
Then off it goes--
Other gardens, other glows--
To synchronise our news.


Unitdelt

by

G. Enos

Life layered
Around possibility
Is a tree, planet,
You or me
Navigating
What could be.
Could be.


Untitled

by

G. Enos

What thinks?
This cluster of gauges
Where business is?
Engine anent eye,
Ear, refining ore in
Noise and shadow--
Weight dreamed
On a scale dreamed.
How much that is thought
Thinks? What is
Created? What is
Mistaken when brains
Are overrated?


Tidelnut

by

G. Enos

"...our universe is simply one of those things which happen from time to time."--Edward Tyron, 1973

Here Omega stops a
Place where salt is,
And sand slants against
The granite bones of Earth.
In these grains instructions
For all there is
Become a beach, simply,
Between worlds. Then
Inland, a value driven
Always away from one,
Things get far too busy.


Littnude

by

G. Enos

In starlight
Ages pass our hill
And stony fire--
An orange flame
Under distant suns.
It shines on boulders,
Your legs,
Shoulders contoured
In light that clings,
Are still while planets roll.
We are only
Watching things.


Tintduel

by

G. Enos

In order
Is disorder understood.
Those funny yellow weeds
Among heather are
Also heather.
There is no heath
The size of itself
Or single way
It goes. It is
What it is, and how
The cosmos grows.


Rock Point Three A.M.

by

G. Enos

An electric path--
To be what one was
At trailhead in
Night-sea crossing--
Under the moon
Between black crashes
Incandescent corridor
Of not-to-be and west
Away from memory.
Something takes flight,
Swift, silver.
Rest of me turns east
And out of night.


Untitled

by

G. Enos

Life selects certain
Molecules, even
In this thought.
Its trail of atoms
Disrupted redraws
The past.


Untitled

by

G. Enos

Sea in winter
Sends its spirit inland.
Probes houses, gardens,
Rustling yellow places
Under trees, faces,
Fingertips --inquisitive
Planetsized pet
Trots after me.


Autumn

by

G. Enos

Sunlight heating our
Dry back porch:
Summer exhaled from floorboards
Into cold air -- rarified
Scent, events signed into
Rills, veins,
Constricting stems--
Leaf-filled fissures,
Menhirs, Warlockstones and
Old paths up the escarpment.
Against the glass
Sharper light gilds roseleaves
And remains there.


Ghost

by

G. Enos


The closed lid,
A spectrum muted,
Hidden light leaves what hides
In light.

What remains is lit within.
One wave is seen, another not.
What does it mean here
Where all lengths cross the moment?

Among curios,
A carefully folded candle flame.
Here is why we mind,
Have minds, freedom.
The body, but a foxng edge--

A ledge in air--
Walking battlements no longer there,
Crumbled. Outline now
Defined by a phantom
Passing behind.

Notes Consulted

by

G. Enos


I have opened too many boxes,
Insides redolent of corresponence
Long closed, glue and dust,
Old collodion, lives closed,
Whittled pegs, strings,
Things cinched in stiff ribbon,
Parts. Paraffin.
I weary of the irreparable.

And so look beyond bottom drawers,
Basements, to beating hearts,
Out of webs, past. Is it
Time present or time preferable?
Much happens over what
Happened last. Something one
Must decide:

To gather clues; to reason,
Open boxes from inside. Being,
And to be, reason applied;
To contain a search
Assembled in mystery.