Hushed and holy
beauty comes in on white feet
and the smell of hyacinth.
Both pieces highlighted here today have a sense of Shelley transfigured by the Beats. They're excellent work. The other great short piece is one by Jeremiah Burrow, in the same journal issue, called "Boulder":
I saw black sun rising out of earth to eat the last golden rays of day.
I just came upon this; thank you for your kind comparison. I like Mr. Burrow's poem a great deal.This is one of my shorter poems, but I recognize that sometimes brevity can be effective.
ReplyDelete