|Poetry of Issue #6 Page 20|
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YOUR ANNIVERSARY, I READ MODERN POETS
Earth’s night wheel rolls over ocean waves. Relax,
Now is the time to think about death.
Your eyelids, tired doves, may also bed down
Now is the time to think about who leaves first.
The blackness of the wall encounters the open hand. This wall is between the hand and truth. The wall is iron air time (says Fortini). The wall is us: being, not being. Frozen.Darko R. Suvin