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As Horses Graze at Dusk If you could stand out here with me You could see this late light dying Into salmon pink, a shade evenings Exude as they tire of azure and white; But you are on safari, or diving Beneath the lid of the sea, seeking, I hope, eternal truth, internal clues, Or eluding critics asking you “Why?†They glance, as they chew, for you; Six of our best gnaw on late fall’s Last offering; we gaze over the range Where a winter storm gathers force. If you could sit out here with me, A thick plaid blanket about us, The air nipping, wisps of fog below, We could show you what you wanted to know. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2006-12-28 10:17:51
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Ho,
You could show it; you could certainly describe it (proved pudding); but . . . can you explain it? If the "you" is italicized, the question would have to be answered in the affirmative. If the "explain" were, the question would have to be answered in the negative - to the extent that explanation requires accordance with truth. Nonethless, nothing that I say will stop "you" from explaining. As long as you keep putting those explanations in poetry, that's fine with me.
The Eagles look like they'll lock up the division. Which means they'll likely lose to the Falcons. That's Philly.
The tree's still up. The presents are unwrapped. The fire is burning. And I'm as fucked up as ever.
Ciao,
Nox
PS - missed the Wright year- end summary. I actually read the damn thing. Gave me insight into you, while I sat there paring my fingernails, a mystery. Made me feel like God. And you like the creature. A nice feeling, that.