Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Monday, March 18, 2013
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Monday, March 11, 2013
The young stretch their necks like horses
racing the light faster than songs, and gyres
of air slip from their arms.
They are sensuous engines animated
by the soul of the world
and by the blindness of hope.
Oh the young swinging from the boughs
of the Ur Trees in the golden light
The sky and the earth upside down again
and again they stretch and at the top of the swing
release themselves from the tattered artifice
of two plus two.