Skeptic

erasure of a page from Samuel Pepys' diary

I hear the wind speak:
nothing but epitaph,
brass angels crying.
The church, a poor man’s box
that binds any guest
to the dying light
like some great weight.
I go down to the water
with my echo:
to say is to know.


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 18 May 1660.

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