“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Thursday, March 15, 2018
Professor
He spoke of the same humbling
Revelation
As if he had just learned it
himself
forgetting he had said this
every time I met him-
The first time
it was
news (to me)
Now, he says
it as Truth.
It may be so
fascinating, even true, however,
there are reasons
it is
he will never know.
Image credit by Metropolitan Museum of Art [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
And then...
Change is like that strong smell of cut grass or chopped wood that stops you still. Patterns, a symbol can be an illegible sign, at first...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two. The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it. In California...
-
This world is not for breath for feelings also come and go. As hard and light as Push and pull Go. Busy hands and bees-electricity, alter...
No comments:
Post a Comment