How flimsy, this work of wish-making: of knotting
thread after thread to necessity, if only to make
beauty from the awareness of our perishing.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- The season turns again
- Hyperphagia
- We woke and the world was colder,
- Own
- Excerpts
- Malarkey
- I wanted the taste of bitter greens
- Grief
- Autumn
- Cleft
- Decorum
- Sibilant Ghazal
- Hokkaido
- October
- Kabayan
- Thence
- Savasana
- Life Skills
- Dear Naga Buddha,
- Notes to/on the plagiarist
- The Empress of Malcolm Square
- Prelude
- 4 Etchings
- In One and the Same Moment
- Wayang Kulit
- Exit Interview (excerpt)
- And ever
- Openwork
- Necessity
- Canción sin fin
- Pavor Nocturnus
- If only the wind now dresses the trees
- Hinge
- November
- Elegy, even after 22 years
- Fleeting
- Osteon
- Outlast
- The years teach much that the days never know*
- Thin fog, as in the corners of a tintype—
- Resist
Hi,
I re-blogged this on my inspiration blog – I hope you don’t mind (let me know if you’d like it down) and thanks for the beauty shared here . .
Dora
http://turnsofendearment.wordpress.com/2012/11/22/poetry/
Thanks for the re-post, Dora. :)