Wednesday, March 05, 2014

A Secret Gratitude

We are a smear of obscenity
On the lake whose only peace
Is a hole where the moon
Abandoned us, that poor
Girl who can’t leave us alone.


If I were the moon I would shrink into a sand grain
In the corner of the poet’s eye,
While there’s still room.

- James Arlington Wright
from A Secret Gratitude

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