Donald Revell

August 15, 2011 Revell Donald



Oleander to the death of horses
Odilon Redon was mother’s martyr
Ruined no mounted with true love but askew

How it is these sounds reach back in time
A first beloved smelling of milk and tar
In time to find first poets grassy

Churning the ice cream blossoming
Philosopher it makes sense it screams
Joy beloved joy and bees in the bedrooms

These sounds reach back in time I feel like an Indian
Like cut grass blown against the base of a mountain
I cannot share a dream we die alone

Born into such beautiful company
Foals find grass earth’s countless eyes

Donald Revell is the author of 14 collections of poetry, most recently of Drought-Adapted Vine (2015) and Tantivy (2012), both from Alice James Books. He is Professor of English at the University of Nevada– Las Vegas & Black Mountain Institute.