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Briefly It Enters, And Briefly Speaks

Rating: 4.4

I am the blossom pressed in a book,
found again after two hundred years. . . .

I am the maker, the lover, and the keeper. . . .

When the young girl who starves
sits down to a table
she will sit beside me. . . .

I am food on the prisoner's plate. . . .

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Terence Collings 06 August 2016

Stunning, stunning imagry! Eloquent, expressive commentary I never tire from reading Jane Kenyon...She is a metaphor for pastoral pain and pleasure

1 0 Reply
Fabrizio Frosini 15 December 2015

I am the one whose love overcomes you, already with you when you think to call my name.. - ITALIAN: Io sono quella il cui amore ti sopraffà, sono già con te quando ti sovviene di pronunciare il mio nome..

7 0 Reply
Smoky Hoss 12 October 2015

There is so much grace in this poem, that it nearly flys away...

0 0 Reply
Ruth Walters 07 December 2009

I enjoyed this poem, oh special one, a 200 year old pressed blossom, the surprise at the party that makes the party swing or the missing colour from the cotten box without which we cannot finish the dress. Ruthie: o)

4 0 Reply