Wednesday, December 4, 2013

An Elegiac Fragment Mentioning December

I read their poems to conjure them,
to deny them any rest,
this ghost once a gentle man,
this ghost once a fierce woman.
Who were they in life to live so seriously,
to hammer out the hours on paper,
that for a moment I thought
they deserved some kind of honor,
as if I might weave the laurels now
in my own hands and dedicate them
to this December earth?

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