Flare Analysis

1.Welcome to the silly, comforting poem.It is not the sunrise,

which is a red rinse,

which is flaring all over the eastern sky;it is not the rain falling out of the purse of God;it is not the blue helmet of the sky afterward,or the trees, or the beetle burrowing into the earth;it is not the mockingbird who, in his own cadence,

will go on sizzling and clapping

from the branches of the catalpa that are thick with blossoms,that are billowing and shining,that are shaking in the wind.2.You still recall, sometimes, the old barn on yourgreat-grandfather's farm, a place you visited once,and went into, all alone, while the grownups sat andtalked in the house.It was empty, or almost. Wisps of hay covered the floor,and some wasps sang at the windows, and maybe there wasa strange fluttering bird high above, disturbed, hoo-inga little and staring down from a messy ledge with wild,binocular eyes.Mostly, though, it smelled of milk, and the patience ofanimals; the give-offs of the body were still in the air,a vague ammonia, not unpleasant.Mostly, though, it was restful and secret, the roof highup and arched, the boards unpainted and plain.You could have stayed there forever, a small child in a corner,on the last raft of hay, dazzled by so much space that seemedempty, but wasn't.Then--you still remember--you felt the rap of hunger--it wasnoon--and you turned from that twilight dream and hurried backto the house, where the table was set, where an uncle patted youon the shoulder for welcome, and there was your place at the table.3.Nothing lasts.

There is a graveyard where everything I am talking about is,

now.I stood there once, on the green grass, scattering flowers.4.Nothing is so delicate or so finely hinged as the wings

of the green moth

against the lantern

against its heat

against the beak of the crow

in the early morning.Yet the moth has trim, and feistiness, and not a dropof self-pity.Not in this world.5.My mother

was the blue wisteria,

my mother

was the mossy stream out behind the house,

my mother,

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