The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 3/22/09

[BlueIris]

"In the Hall of Bones"

Here we store the reassembled
scaffolding, the split, bleached uprights,
the knobby corner locks and braces
that help up the mastodon's
bag of wet leaves and the ivory
forklift of its head. Over there are
the planks upon which lay the turtle's
diving bell, and the articulated
rack that kept the dromedary's hump
from collapsing under the weight
of its perseverance. And here is
the basket that held the clip-clop
pulse of the miniature horse
as it dreamed of growing tall enough
to have lunch from a tree. And then
here's man, all matchsticks, wooden spoons
and tongue depressors wired together,
a rack supporting a leaky jug
of lust and worry. Of all the skeletons
assembled here, this is the only one
in which once throbbed a heart
made sad by brooding on its shadow.

~Ted Kooser

[Tuesday Afternoon]

1. ~

:donut: :hi:

[RetroLounge]

2. Kooser is so good!

thanks...

:hi:

RL

[Droopy]

3. Strangely beautiful

And I'm not even sure what it means.

[BlueIris]

4. "True poetry can communicate before it is understood."

T.S. Eliot.

[CaliforniaPeggy]

5. My dear BlueIris!

Wow, what great metaphors!

I'm loving this one...

And that poignant ending...

Of all the skeletons
assembled here, this is the only one
in which once throbbed a heart
made sad by brooding on its shadow.

So very beautiful...

Thank you!


:hug: