Thursday, February 8, 2007

I don't know why, but this particular James Wright poem has been on my mind lately:


There is a cave
In the air behind my body
That nobody is going to touch:
A cloister, a silence
Closing around a blossom of fire.
When I stand upright in the wind,
My bones turn to dark emeralds.

1 comment:

Van said...

i must get a hold of that collection.
very necessary post, indeed.
thank you.