Is it the poet’s secret wish
to have the last word
or the first word or
be the everything
of our prevision we like
him least for?
Emerson speaks
as of a divine being
who’s left his glasses
on the other floor.
Now we’ve begun
to make life we see
how it’s the failure
of a trillion words
prepares the resurrection.
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1 comment:
All of the above, I'm afraid.
My clivia has done nothing at all this year but even when it gets round to having its say it won't be able to hold its head up - not that clivias ever hold their heads up - next to your rare and radiant reds.
Thanks for dropping in on my site.
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