Returning to past
you tend to remain all mum,
murmuring nothing.
Measuring speed
of light coming from my eyes
without spilling dark.
What burns up, ejects
the sparks on your shroud
of three parting words.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: March 17th, 2023 20:30
- Category: Nature
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments1
I read this poem several times and saw more, I think, of what you meant to communicate with each reading. However, I don't think I grasped the full meaning. This does not by any means diminish the power and literary skill of your work. The great poet Wallace Stevens wrote many such somewhat obscure poems, even more so than this, and is yet acclaimed to be one of the 20th century's best.Keep up the good work.
If you get a chance, read Stevens' "Anecdote Of The Jar" or "Sunday Morning"
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