Thursday, October 27, 2011

So that's why...

Skipping

by Robert Morgan

A carburetor skips, and rocks
will skip along the surface of
a pond. A fugitive will skip
the country if he can, and crooks
will skip the payment of their debts.
And one can walk content or run
with joy across a summer field.
But why omitting steps is such
a sign of pleasure's hard to say,
as if the gap and shift, the quick
eliding interruption of
a stride, reflects the shiver jolt,
releasing dance; accentuates,
as heart is said to skip a beat,
the lift, arrhythmic, breathless gasp
and rush and reach of crossing first
one threshold then another in
the vivid hop from foot to foot,
the hurrying toward and with delight.

"Skipping" by Robert Morgan, from Terroir. © Penguin, 2011.

I haven't posted a poem in a while, but I read this on the Writer's Almanac the other day.

River skips everywhere and so do many kids. It is wonderful to watch him skipping happily down street. I love how this poem captures that joyful action.

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