Sample Poems by Norbert Krapf

The Figure in the Landscape
 
 
I found my goddess
in the lay of the land
I love, in the curves
 
of her rolling hills,
the rise and spread
of trees in her woods,
 
in the tangle of
weeds and wild flowers
that grow lush
 
in her fallow fields,
in the way she
opens herself to rain
 
and accepts the snow
and swells and heaves
in the hot sun.
 
When I tongue
the names shagbark
hickory and white oak,
 
sycamore and sweet
gum, beech, black
cherry and walnut;
 
prairie grass, Queen
Anne’s lace, mullein
and blackberries,
 
sassafras, pawpaw
persimmon, pecan
and tulip poplar;
 
Dutchman’s breeches,
bloodroot, May apple,
and wild geranium;
 
and voice the names
of those who came
before me and mine,
 
Miami, Piankashaw,
Lenape, Shawnee
Wea and Potawatomi,
 
I feel my goddess
listen and respond
to my naming
 
and know she
welcomes me back
to the land I love.
 

Woods Shrine

When my father led me as a boy
into the woods beyond the old
farmhouse near the top of the hill
at the end of the red sandstone lane
 
I did not know you were waiting
but I sensed a presence in the woods
I did not perceive anywhere else.
For the first time, I carried a rifle
 
on my shoulder as we hunted squirrels.
All my senses entered a new dimension.
Eyes, ears detected every range of motion,
every nuance of sound.  Now I know
 
you were there waiting for an acolyte.
Now I know you were preparing me
for what would come later.  Silently,
skillfully you led me toward your depths.
 
When I tiptoed around the base of one
food tree, you backed around another.
When I ran my fingertips up and down
the smooth bark of a beech, your skin

tingled but you kept your pleasure to
yourself.  I had not found the capacity
to name what I loved, never heard
the name that other men gave you,

and so I did not know to say, “Daphne!”
When I squinted at the early morning
sunlight that sometimes broke through
a cluster of leaves, I did not know
 
it was light from your heavenly eyes.
Now when I lie with you as morning
light filters through the blinds and you
prepare to rise and depart, I recall
  
where I saw that familiar light so long
ago and so far away.  Goddess of leaf,
branch, bole, and bark, your devotee is back.
I have returned to the shade of your shrine.
 

 Lovely in Her Bones

after Theodore Roethke

I once knew a woman so lovely
in her bones I followed her down
the lane past the river into a field
where monarchs fluttered in clouds.
 
The woman who moved so grace-
fully in her bones through milkweed
and Queen Anne’s lace turned
around, bowed like a violinist
who has made ethereal music,
touched her fingertips to lips,
gave me a gracious wave,
tiptoed like a fawn into shadowy
woods where pawpaws grow
and mourning doves coo sad
sweet songs one after another.
 
As butterflies touched my flesh
like blessings from beyond
I gave thanks for what I had
been allowed to behold
 
and wrote down this prayer
so the woman divine in her
flesh may come back
to this world again because
she knows how grateful I am 
she has walked down my lane,
stood in my field, shone the light
of her grace, and blessed me
with the power to say what
I feel by the way she walks
so lovely in her bones.

Girl of the Hill Country

after Bob Dylan and traditional song
 

 If you’re traveling in the hill country
where woods roll as far as you can see
and the sun sets on the hazy Ohio River,
say hello to a girl I once loved.
 
Tell her I remember that wisp of hair
that trailed across big blue eyes,
the way she would say my name
with a voice that rose like a spring.
 
If you see snowflakes pile on cedar green,
tell me if she still wears that same smile
that makes winter skin tingle when
blood flows oh so slow in your veins.
 
If you see the old red barns lean
in heat where purple hollyhocks stand,
please ask if she remembers my name,
tell her I dream of coming back home.
 
If you’re traveling in the hill country
when yellow leaves fall, remember me
to one who lives there. My lips still
hold the sound of her name like a hymn.