Monday, October 31, 2011

Such Things As Remain


By J.A.

Though we seek always the known absolute
of all our days together, love will not occur
For us. Love is a fact 
Beyond the witches' wood of facts that is
Our sorcery's domain. And though we may
Charm lion into squirrel, push back the sea,
Love is made outlaw, set beyond all art,
The ultimate error of our reasoning. 

But when I see you walking or catch your face
Edged with the season's most erratic leaves
Love grows superfluous, and I look at you
As I would look at flowers. Our only need:
The sympathy of darkness for the seed.



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