|
|
|
|
| |
Perhaps,
in the exaggerated grace
of his weight
settling,
the wings
raised, held in
strike-or-embrace
position,
I recognized
something more
than swan, I can't say.
There was just
this barely defined
shoulder, whose feathers
came away in my hands,
and the bit of world
left beyond it, coming down
to the heat-crippled field,
ravens the precise color of
sorrow in good light, neither
black nor blue, like fallen
stitches upon it,
and the hour forever,
it seemed, half-stepping
its way elsewhere--
then
everything, I
remember, began
happening more quickly.
Carl Phillips
Read poems about / on: sorrow, remember, light, world, raven
|
|
User Rating: |
|
--
/10
(0 votes) |
|
|
|
|
| |
| Comments about this poem (Leda, After the Swan by Carl Phillips) |
more comments >>
|
Click here to write your comments about this poem (Leda, After the Swan by Carl Phillips)
David Gerardino (12/25/2005 8:11:00 PM)
GREAT POEM, did you put out a book of poems called, THE REST OF LOVE? |
|
|
|
|
E-mail this poem to e friend