Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Dire Straits

As if in a stupor, the doves do nothing
But reel in air in front of the fledglings,

Whereas the hawk-like crows fly straight
Into the heart of the matter.

2 comments:

  1. Wonderful! The poem transforms in the last line from image into metaphysics—or transforms metaphysics into image. How do you do that?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks, Joe. I appreciate your comment--illuminating as always--but I'm afraid I can't answer your question because I don't really know how I do that!

    ReplyDelete

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