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Transcript of The Cloud-Mobile
Above my face is a map.
Continents form and fade.
Blue countries, made
on a white sea, are erased,
and white countries traced
on a blue sea.
It is a map that moves,
faster than real,
but so slow.
Only my watching proves
that island has being,
or that bay.
It is a model of time
Mountains are wearing away,
coasts are cracking,
the ocean spills over,
then new hills
heap into view
with river-cuts of blue
It is a map of change.
This is the way things are
with a stone or a star.
This is the way things go,
hard or soft,
swift or slow.
During her career, May Swenson received numerous literary awards and nominations for her poetry. Often experimental in both form and appearance, her poems earned her widespread critical acclaim. Swenson was a visionary poet, a prodigious observer of the fragile and miraculous natural world and
displayed the ability to get out of herself and into those larger, warmer energies of earth. Swenson herself wrote that the experience of poetry is "based on a craving to get through the curtains of things as they appear, to things as they are, and then into the larger, wilder space of things as they are becoming.
If you don't see it does it exist?