(8 February 1911 – 6 October 1979 / Worcester, Massachusetts)

What do you think this poem is about?

Conversation

The tumult in the heart
keeps asking questions.
And then it stops and undertakes to answer
in the same tone of voice.
No one could tell the difference.

Uninnocent, these conversations start,
and then engage the senses,
only half-meaning to.
And then there is no choice,
and then there is no sense;

until a name
and all its connotation are the same.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003


Read poems about / on: heart

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