When I look at poems posted here I find it helpful to ask “What kinda dang variation on a basic Petrarchan Sonnet is this?” This often helps me to get a handle on the structure in which the ideas (thoughts, images) are presented. I’m starting to think Mr. Pinsky and I share a weakness for that form. This one is pretty standard, with the addition of a four line bridge in the middle. I agree with White Rabbit that the way in is through the visual. I was immediately reminded of Chinese and Japanese landscape painting.

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These styles are influenced by Buddhist philosophy and I think the poem is, as well. Flashes of color appear in a dark field. As to the discussion of personality types, well…my impression is that the difference is between a person who is dying, bravely, and someone who cares very much about her. They face different problems. There is something threatening and mysterious about the beginning - I am reminded of the movie of Kwaidan, Lafcadio Hearn’s collection of Japanese ghost stories. The poet repeats at me, above me, as if desperate to hang on to self. When the person who’s actually dying appears, she is joyous in bright yellow, and commonplace as blue jeans.

Everything looms at me. Hound's-tongue
with wet doggy leaves and blue flowers
starts up from the mist-streaked hillside.
Standing by itself, framed in fog
the live oak twists black arms above me,
an embrace, free of the crown of leaves that hides
the outlines of limbs in the crowded background view.
The canyon and the next hill disappear.

An owl on a low branch sits in its silhouette
in the white flame of a wild cherry
and a tiny wren weaves through the sagebrush,
singing as it stops then flashes back in.

Plunging into dense puffs and gusts of fog
along the road a dying friend wheels
and lunges from cliff wall to cliff edge
in a bright yellow blouse and blue jeans
joyous with losing herself and coming back
in daily magic, you see me then you don't.