Todd Boss: "To a Wild Rose"

"with simple tenderness," for Beth


It’s true, what all our
heroes say. There is a way
in this world for beauty,
for good. It may
be a crooked path
in a tanglewood, but
stay the course and,
when the way grows rocky,
walk your horse,

and who knows, you may yet
come upon the wild rose,
as I have done, and,
paying close attention,
keep from crushing her into
the grime, and then,
with any luck, in time
remember how you found her
and how to find her again
when the way gets wilder.



"To a Wild Rose" by Todd Boss, from Yellowrocket: Poems (W. W. Norton & Company, 2010). Text as presented in various online sources.

Art credit: "Wild Rose," macro image by unknown photographer.


 

Todd Boss: "This Morning in a Morning Voice"

  to beat the froggiest
of morning voices,
  my son gets out of bed
and takes a lumpish song
  along—a little lyric
learned in kindergarten,
  something about a
boat. He’s found it in
  the bog of his throat
before his feet have hit
  the ground, follows
its wonky melody down
  the hall and into the loo
as if it were the most
  natural thing for a little
boy to do, and lets it
  loose awhile in there
to a tinkling sound while
  I lie still in bed, alive
like I’ve never been, in
  love again with life,
afraid they’ll find me
  drowned here, drowned
in more than my fair
  share of joy.

"This Morning in a Morning Voice" by Todd Boss, from Pitch: Poems. © W. W. Norton & Company, 2012.

Image: "Big Shadow, Little Boy," a print by Dick Sargent, 1960 (originally color).