A Song

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The other world’s not for me–

I let my dead stroll there;

pale road, pale throat–

each of its pebbles;

a white vanishing note.

I far prefer minnow

and mole; I need to know

what their mouths know : round

stone in a stream, heart

buried in a box; to fetch

what’s down there, black

and cold as a lump of coal.

To go that deep: ash and tear,

but to come back up: bud and leaf.

~ Gregory Orr

 

I remember as a teenager, Gregory Orr came to our high school and read from his book, ‘New and Selected Poems’.  It was a very chilling experience to not only experience but to hear the way he read them, gave me chills.  Listening to his poems planted a seed in me, that although stayed dormant throughout my life, remained hungry and alive to sprout up during this creative time in my life.

 

 

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