Not expecting an answer
I’m trying to get better at making turns quickly, to speak compactly and still pack a big punch. This poem does a crazy good job of that. It’s by RUTH STONE.
This tedious letter to you,
what is one Life to another?
We walk around inside our bags,
sucking it in, spewing it out.
Then the insects, swarms heavier
than all the animals of the world.
Then the flycatchers on the clothesline,
like seiners leaning from Flemish boats
when the seas were roiled with herring.
This long letter in my mind,
calligraphy, feathery asparagus.
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