Tag Archives: dust
Poems are diamonds,everywhereembedded in living rock.You see themyou dig them outyou polish them. (Sometimes you don’t see them.) Polish them too much,they break into fragments,blow away,a handful of dust. (Each mote of which is a diamond.) .
The scent of the rosefades in the dry airand the roses themselvesshrivel and fall. The Rose Garden toosuccumbs to the developerand his high-rise flatswhich brush against the sky. Red bricks give wayto changing architectural fashionor a motorwayor a bomb. And … Continue reading