4.22.2006

in the wake of a poem

Awash in the wake of language that is a poem, one knows what kind of vessel was the mind that cut through the blank sea of the page. It may be too far to catch sight of now, or be shrouded in fog, but one knows the craft: Be it an ocean liner, sailboat, trawler, cigarette boat or just a dinghy with a small outboard motor.

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