It's always wonderful to go away when you like coming home, especially if where you've been visiting was lovely as well. During my all-day travels yesterday, I read most of Galway Kinnell's "The Book of Nightmares." It is an astonishing work. Here's a taste:
7
Dear stranger
extant in memory by the blue Juniata
these letters
across space I guess
will be all we will know of one another.
So little of what one is threads itself through the eye
of empty space.
Never mind.
The self is the least of it.
Let our scars fall in love.
Song of the day:
The Microphones | I Want Wind To Blow
- A Synonym for Living
- THIS IS THE OLD BLOG OF Sophie Klahr, a poet from Pittsburgh. Her current blog is HTTP://WWW.SYNONYMFORLIVING.WORDPRESS.COM Her poetry, essays, and reviews appear in spaces such as Ploughshares, The Rumpus, Gulf Coast, and The Normal School. She was the poetry editor of Gigantic Sequins (2010-2014) and now serves as contributing editor. Her first book, Meet Me Here At Dawn, is forthcoming in fall 2016 from YesYes Books.
2 comments:
absolutely love this poem. thank you
you're welcome, mary. i'm glad you found it meaningful. what i posted is just one section of a longer poem - I think you'd like the rest of it too.
Post a Comment