Seeds and miracles
A mechanical spirit
The Father, The Mother,
Sons of steel, Daughters of the revolution
The will to pause
At dawn, in the mist, or ruins
-to toast, sing, genuflect
Pity like some thing in the street
Pride like some thing in the mirror
A stick to carry remorse, regret
Virgin wool pristine with the memory of youth
Old rags sour with age
Layers of knowledge, upon knowledge, upon knowledge
-mortar between bricks laid in endless echoing vaults
And in these recesses, where nothing can touch, light, or hold sway,
Can we know how much a man contains?
*The title is taken from The Hemorrhage by Stanley Kunitz
This is the latest version of a list poem I have reworked many times over.
The Bar is open!