I didn't start taking myself seriously as a poet
until the white began to appear in my cheek.
All before was amusement and affection--
now, like a hare, like a hare, like a hare,
I watch the turtle lift one horrible leg
over the last remaining stile and head
for home, practically roaring with virtue.
Everything, suddenly everything is up there in the mind.
All the beauty of the race gone
and my life merely an allegory.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
After trimming my beard
...this morning, looking for something else, I found this poem by Gerald Stern. Funny how these things work. "As I am, so I see," says Emerson. Anyway, here's the poem; meditations on what exactly I need to start taking seriously (no doubt) to follow.