From the place where we are right
flowers will never grow
in the spring.
The place where we are right
is hard and trampled
like a yard.
is hard and trampled
like a yard.
But doubts and loves
dig up the world
like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
where the ruined
house once stood.
dig up the world
like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
where the ruined
house once stood.
Image credits: Author photograph: © Dan Porges. Artwork: "Plowed Fields 1," reduction linocut, by Dave Leeper (originally color).
Thanks for this. I'm hoping it'll hold me for more than a day.
ReplyDeleteI hope so, too, David. Much more than a day.
DeleteThis is wonderful. Thank you for this, and all the other selections, and keeping this site alive.
ReplyDelete