Brevity as Gasps
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
Too seldom women feel themselves like dew
And men less seldom even. Life cut short
Like lightning is a thought we seldom view
Though close to truth. A bow at Agincourt
Predicts the doctrine well. Most men prefer
The lightning image to the dew. They think
Themselves as power, though maybe more a blur
Of smoke in campfire nights, its acid stink
Is what most are. A phantom made of fog,
Not even really real, a ghost that blows
But briefly as a snatch of song, a frog
That croaks just once: most people are just those.
Consider who you are each early day.
By noon your breathing might have gone astray.
~ Phillip Whidden
by phillipw | Sep 25, 2024 | DE |