One day I hope we'll remember
how it ends. It should be with more
than fountains or libraries.
Perhaps mirrors
will show our houses
amid the lost pretending --
echoes of buildings looped and fired
among refashioned
morrows and scales.
It will not be like holding
a quivering rainbow
or a lamb, or discovering
a wintry arbor
within a skirted hollow.
What materials
remain could turn
to meat or teeth or iron.
Film dome where bars suggest
habitats and animals again.
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is this real?
1 comment:
I like this poem very much...
my site....tiny bubbles -
http://bitsandpieces.wordpress.com
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