"...where can
dense, straw-strung flesh
cry to for its essential
answering other except beyond,
way, way beyond the star
points resolving into galaxies." Antithesis, A. R. Ammons
******
Since nothing in the last resort
is enough for us
we must put aside regret
fashion our pangs of hunger
into engines of desire
create something from nothing
from the pure intuition
of our condensed flesh
hold it up in the lights
from way, way beyond
our enchanted view, and we will see
we are things of the earth after all.
Seen in the Light
13 Wednesday May 2026
Posted in poems
Poetry on the run 