If only you could paraphrase
how his yellows are. Spread flat
on your bed some eighteenth
century map of
Saint Kitts. What else is there
but ornamentation? My beard like
wheat. Like how the
cabbage palms seem unevenly hacked
It should go without saying that no one goes into poetry for money.
Poetry makes us children again.
Novels have hurt me. Stories have punctured my skeptical skin. Essays have made me rethink the world. But a melancholic poem shatters me.
A well-placed poem can remind us that our existences are, cosmically, equally as brief as these 15 lines.
'Spring and Fall,' written by Gerard Manley Hopkins in September, 1880, and collected in his Poems and Prose, is the saddest poem ever written.
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