Wednesday 17 January, 2007

Emily Dickenson, lend me your tears

The universal nature of poetry is never lacking.
When you laugh,
the world laughs with you;
when you cry,
you cry at home.

But a poem?
A poem is verseatile.
To it, a smile
is a smile, is a smile,
and a tear-
for love or loss or guile-
will wound its
syntax
for a while.

The universal nature of poetry is never lacking.
When you're choking with sorrow, your poem is hacking.

1 comment:

longblackveil said...

Lovely. I kiss my hand at you. [Like so many of the effeminate men of yore.]