My heart born naked
was swaddled in lullabies.
Later alone it wore
poems for clothes.
Like a shirt
I carried on my back
the poetry I had read.
So I lived for half a century
until wordlessly we met.
From my shirt on the back of the chair
I learn tonight
how many years
of learning by heart
I waited for you.
— John Berger
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Arrival
Friday, July 17, 2009
A good poem
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
We can never know
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Comfortable eyes
Sunday, July 5, 2009
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