Wild Court

An international poetry journal based in the English Department of King’s College London

‘On the Hudson’: a poem by Matthew DeLuca

 Artwork by the poet

On the Hudson

In times like these I turn from the world
      that cannot be the world, because it does not know me
as the stag on the heights,
as the eagle delighting in the ruffle of the sun-raised winds,
as the frog in its evening song,
does not know me as itself;

and as I turn knowing I cannot turn,
that there is nowhere else to go,
the world might remember and I might remember.

I eat with the fish at the edge of the river;
and eat the fish at the edge of the river;
and delight and repulse the townfolk;
and am delighted by and repulsed by the townfolk;
and as the sun sinks I see downriver the tree out on a small peninsula
where I befriended ducklings yesterday, paddling at my feet,
and where I regretted not having
      a pocketful of bread to share.

The smallest motions of moment capture me;
the smallest motions of moment know me and liberate.

In time, all things will be done, and again,
in the unclosed swirl of every ramifying moment,
      of peace and at ease,
unclosed moments of delight delighting.