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"Though, high above the shore on someone's porch, spread wings of newsprint flap the tidings of some dirty war, it is a perfect day..." -- Richard Wilbur
A ChoiceStained with tincture of time, an unstable pigment that fades or darkens, sharpens and blurs, my memories of you are unlikely to be true; better the clear true colors of this very day: pink and purple bougainvillea through a pepper tree's green branches at ten o'clock in the morning in the strong November sun.© Carl Selph, 2001This morning's air's clear as a blackbird's whistle. Last night's rinsing rain deepened all the green. The day's intensely hued as early Technicolor, all bougainvillea purples, rosa mexicana, orange, red. The unhindered sun lavishes love on worn stone. One man pushes, the other pulls, a two-wheeled cart. A woman leads her pinafored daughter by the hand to school. Graciela scrubs the sidewalk down with a broom. From the balcony my little dogs keep steady watch in case the old lady peddling roses decides to attack today.© Carl Selph, 2001I. M. Albert Howard Carter On that January night before I left Arkansas for New York for the first time, riding the Trailways, with a tin suitcase and a fedora my mother insisted I buy, to protect my Southern head from the Yankee cold, ignorant even of how to phone if "Central" didn't answer, I called my college mentor to say goodbye. His farewell, a considerable surprise, was "God go with you." God. Tears rose, and I wished my heart had compelled me along a road with only the familiar dips and curves. The sticker on that suitcase showed a razorback hog and a big red A--for Arkansas, artless, avid, alone. That odd, good man has been dead for years, and now I'm old, and bumbling still through foreign scapes. Sometimes, bemused, I actually suspect that God, working in those unfathomable ways, may be acceding still to that astonishing request.© Carl Selph, 2001All text on this page is copyrighted by Carl Selph and appears here by permission. All rights reserved. It may not be archived beyond one personal electronic copy for offline reading; such a copy must include the entire text of the present notice and the author's name. It may not be printed, posted on a web-site, distributed publicly or privately, used or quoted in whole or in part, or published in any manner or form whatsoever without the author's explicit permission. E-mail Wordreign to contact Carl Selph and your request will be promptly forwarded.
Carl Selph Poetry Index Original Writing Page Images from Myst © 1993 Cyan, Inc. and Riven © 1997 Cyan, Inc. All rights reserved. Myst® and Riven® are registered trademarks of Cyan, Inc. Used by permission.