for Mather Schneider
We were walking outdoors. My friend said, “look—
do you think rhyme belongs here
or somewhere in a book?”
“Everywhere,” I said. “There’s nothing modern or wrong
but the poet will express it
in the scenery of the song.”
Him: “What do you mean by that?”
Me: “We should only write ‘verse’ in the ‘lane’
when ‘dancing jigs’ and ‘wearing a fancy hat.’
I wear a hat when I write.” We walked along
in silence, until he shouted,
“The scenery of the song?
Sounds like the name of one of your stupid poems.”
“It is,” I replied, “and you’re in it.
Like Romantic poets, we’re roaming where the poet roams,
in these, our woods and hills, is that wrong?”
Him: “Yes it is, it’s ridiculous. Sounds stupid!
The scenery of the song!”
Me: “Do you think rhyming in the woods is wrong?
I rather like my line: the scenery of the song.
It just needs to be placed in a poem
so metrically it doesn’t sound wrong.”
Him: “It will always sound wrong!
It’s inane! Just listen to it. Scenery?
The scenery of the song?” He began to laugh.
I was hurt. We left the woods and approached a perfect lawn
which stretched for miles, invitingly.
We hesitated, afraid to walk on.