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.
In my mind this is poetic counterpoint expertly explained.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Liz. Most kind.
ReplyDelete