![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvvLFvX49QR4BFVN1ME9LCiCBojpXr2N4qj7ibNLrXLsdCnkYvjq-_7CGXzgmVKlBJ0pi7nTKaWKaR-99ZGgVyrUQN5CPk2pegxTP5tPFMmjZ799B_UN1SB9QQgDhPtkBHX3l1w9Q0juoS/s320/tumblr_lq5gacqosL1qez5jqo1_500_thumb.jpg)
In lives, all poems live
Twice, and upon this
Fellowship presume a course
In memory, even
To immobility.
Even still, stopped
Still under still
Lateen sail like a
Caravel locked in ice,
The poem lives twice;
May sink or ruin in
Mind but is never,
Never left behind.