Sunday, December 13, 2009

On A Bridge

I am amazed at
What things mean.
Devices, by which
The impossible is
Seen, surround the soul.
What is secret when
Wind, rattling in reeds,
Repeats what is
Whispered in a hole?

3 comments:

  1. Good to see you gardening again! I like this poem in a way I cannot say; perhaps it's too early in the morning or because I've always liked poems I can't just easily "translate" into a prose redaction. I certainly feel its sense....

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  2. Mornin' Willie! It's about devices that get us seeing things that can't yet be, like the story of King Midas's barber prefigured internet by thousands of years. Internet conversation with a dear friend recently touched upon political jackassism and got me wondering what-all the term might mean. One gets on a bridge built of folktales,cultural moonbeams etc. and never comes back. You know.

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  3. Thanks for making one aspect of what was inchoate for me clear. i still like--as I said with all art--the wispiness of its gossamer extensions, unlike, say, the structure and meaning of 2+2 or thermonuclear power....

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