June 15, 2011

“You cannot say, or guess, for you know only  
A heap of broken images, ”           

from “The Wasteland”, T.S.ELIOT                                                                                                                                                                                                                            


But for the  billowing  sound,

That’s  a blow,  I’d sound even more solo

Reciting  into  the wind,

Reciting some  spells,  returning it to the moonlit wind

And darkness.  Even my strong fire

Was overwhelmed by brash breezes

And  newborn  rhyme & rhythms.


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