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| Marilyn Krysl |
Looking back now, I seeOh yes. I know that particular sense of regret.
I was dispassionate too often,
dismissing the robin as common,
and now can't remember what
robin song sounds like.
There's more here, and you shouldn't miss the deft way Krysl's poem turns from regret to fresh desire.


something very special in the flow of this one... and it s sound (s)
ReplyDeleteand sense (s). "Sutra" a good title for this and for so the very reason that it does get us beyond what today passes for "confessional" poetry AND our
too-prevelant American (ersatz) zen.
here ? I am partial to Day Lilies leave them alone and they grow-like-weeds
nothing like that plump robin who year-after-year
just out-side my window
with her mate
rebuilds their nest
turn's towards that "fresh desire"
also appreciate her precise punctuation
and the way things "break" (in this Sutra)
now as I have a cold
am off to kitchen to make my
Jewish Chicken Sutra