Friday, October 16, 2015

NO SUCH THINGS AS SYNONYMS

Gazing into the wild 
and perilous mystery—of nightweather 
booming outside 
your windowpane

and wondering—
how even the most
ungovernable rains
could be brought down so easily

by the weakest
and the
least well-understood
of forces—

consider now 
the meek poet brooding;

for whom 
there are no certainties! 
Other than those—
of course, regarding which word

at which exact 
particular moment—to pelt you with,
or else miss 
on purpose.

No comments:

Post a Comment

HOW DO YOU FEEL?