RememberingThere are threads of old sound heard over and overphrases of Shakespeare or Mozart the slenderwands of the auroras playing out from theminto dark time the passing of a fewmigrants high in the night far from the ancient flocksfar from the rest of the words far from the instruments
Monday, December 5, 2011
W. S. Merwin
Merwin: a poet I found challenging when I first began reading his stuff. He still makes me work a little bit, but I'm none the worse for that. This is a wonderful little poem he wrote in 1997, packed so that unpacking it would take a bit of time, a bit of imagination. I had this posted in my cubicle for years . . . I'm sure it confirmed people's view of me as an eccentric at best, a radical weirdo at worst. I'm guilty on all counts.