The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 4/23/09

[BlueIris]

"Poetry As Continuity"

The young doctor dreamed of revolution.
The middlaged revolutionary dreamed of a tree
offering its red berries, thrusting down roots like a woman.

Under miles of snow, under railroad tracks stitched like a suture,
the earth slept all the way to Moscow.
How strangely space is playing the part of time!

What reached the city was only a coincidence
in a life of parades, Zhivago,
you are all we have left, in the end you were scarcely a man.

~Jane Cooper

[CaliforniaPeggy]

1. My dear BlueIris...

Um, I'm struggling to make sense of this one...

Mostly, I don't get it...

Is it about the personal growth of Zhivago?

There are some pretty metaphors here...

Thank you!

:hi:

[BlueIris]

2. I think this poem is a sort of memorial for Zhivago's vision.

Which I think is quite dead in the modern age.