Monday, March 25, 2019

A Stillness Only Partly Gone

Some of us cannot give up
The crucifixion,
The punctuation,

Nailing ghost words to the page.
You could. You had a lightness,
A polyglot grace and swoop

To the way you presented
Your poems in the snow.
You raced toward emptiness

So fast, it took you
Ninety-one years to get there.
The best elegy

Anyone ever showed me
Was composed by you.
Now who should I show it to?

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