Like little sunsets, like a song
of ascents, I wish to remember my father.
Posted inArts & Culture, Poetry
Like little sunsets, like a song
of ascents, I wish to remember my father.
These are poems that grip your heart, stretch your mind and startle your soul awake.
the wily accuser
tempted him in just the way to confuse a savior:
All this I will give you.
Daydreams and memory are saving some
Down there from shame
And suddenly, without warning
this long year of suffering
comes back in fragments,
By force of her imagination and skill, Emily Dickinson could take the measure of solitude, opprobrium and even damnation.
for I too take my bearings
in a manner unfamiliar
to solid daylit creatures