against the night...
Frank Stanford
The Bass
He jumps up high
against the night,
rattling his gills
and the hooks
in his back.
The Indian says
he is like a goose
passing in front
of the moon.
- from The Singing Knives
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Such a beautiful image from Stanford. One motion, one place, one reality. Perfect in the sense it carries. Leaving out everything that is not the moment. When I read a poem like this one, no other writing, no other reading is necessary.
3 comments:
Don't you just hate that?
Yes - and would give up everything I've written just to write that one piece.
I am feeling like that at the moment about J.S. Harry's book 'Not Finding Wittgenstein' ....except that I don't actually want to write like that. It's a staggering work though.
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