Poem

Kay Ryan

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CLOUD

CLOUD

CLOUD

A blue stain
creeps across
the deep pile
of the evergreens.
From inside the
forest it seems
like an interior
matter, something
wholly to do
with trees, a color
passed from one
to another, a
requirement
to which they
submit unflinchingly
like soldiers or
brave people
getting older.
Then the sun
comes back and
it’s totally over.

© 2010, Kay Ryan
From: Poetry, Vol. 195, No. 5, February
Publisher: Poetry, Chicago

Kay Ryan

Kay Ryan

(United States of America, 1954)

Many of Ryan’s poems follow a similar formula: the lines are short, there are few of them, and they are held together by frequent internal rhyming and unusual, powerful imagery. Small and mighty, one might say, they pull you closer to the page. ‘A Ball Rolls On a Point’ follows a “ball/ of who we are” as it rolls through a “fibrous jungle”. The jungle, like life, is full of unforeseen, unprovok...

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Poems of Kay Ryan

HOUDINI

BAIT GOAT

A BALL ROLLS ON A POINT

CROCODILE TEARS

SHARKS\' TEETH

REPETITION

FELIX CROW

CLOUD

CUT OUT FOR IT

THE LATE WORM

Close

CLOUD

A blue stain
creeps across
the deep pile
of the evergreens.
From inside the
forest it seems
like an interior
matter, something
wholly to do
with trees, a color
passed from one
to another, a
requirement
to which they
submit unflinchingly
like soldiers or
brave people
getting older.
Then the sun
comes back and
it’s totally over.

From: Poetry, Vol. 195, No. 5, February

CLOUD

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