Sunday, April 17, 2011

Person, That Whole Person



And it's vernal, she's washed winter from her sallow skin, the skin of the near dead, and gotten done with the African violets

and uttering such words certainly meant to be meant as come from the mouth though cadged from a bard . . . thee best, O most best, believe it . . .

noted that I've liked love, the punctuations of it, the wink and wave at you, shadows bristling with a holy ghost

that such religiosity has its habits, its myth of desolation and rise, of utter promise based so truly on the rhythm of that waltz on the hooves.


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4 comments:

  1. "she washed winter from her sallow skin" beautiful image and words...bkm

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  2. Barbara,

    This poem came after total dryness of over a week. Came from where I thought nothing would ever come again. So barren was the poetry in me.

    Thank you!!

    Trulyfool

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  3. Trulyfool,
    A delightful read, with good positive hints of a rebirth of thought, after a lull!
    A very clever title for your Blog, which I liked very much.
    Added you to my list. Good to have encountered your style, via Poets United!
    Best wishes, Eileen
    I enjoyed a visit to Seattle and Pacific Coastal areas, a few years ago. Bainbridge Island was delightful!

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  4. Eileen,

    Thank you for 'joining' me, but most for your very kind words.

    The more I think I'm 'clever', the more people I find are cleverer!

    On behalf of the Pacific Northwest, we appreciate your visit!

    Trulyfool

    ReplyDelete