vrijdag 9 maart 2012

Three in transition - David Ignatow

I wish I understood the beauty
in leaves falling. To whom
are we beautiful
as we go?


[I lie in the field
still, absorbing the stars
and silently throwing off
their presence. Silently
I breathe and die
by turns.

He was ripe
and fell to the ground
from a bough
out where the wind
is free
of the branches.]

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