DISCOVERY
A BIRD to me was just a bird, A feathered thing one often heard Piping in the early dawn In the lilacs on the lawn. But from you I learned to see All the beauty there can be In the birds—the deep wood note Throbbing in the veery’s throat, A cardinal adventuring by As if a poppy tried to fly. God speaks indeed from bush and tree Since you discovered birds for me.
POMEGRANATES
IN city streets the blue dusk falls. The lights prick out. Folks hurry by. Buses are thronged. Sleek motors flash. “Extra—ship sunk!” the newsboys cry.
Before a little shop I pause Where Pietro sells, strange, precious fruit, Great globes of scarlet, heaps of gold Barbaric as a pirate’s loot.
I see pomegranates glowing there, And I forget the strident night, I hear the song of Solomon— “Return, return, O Shulamite.