h1

Personal poetry archive 1

May 3, 2006

I will inflict my old (and maybe new) poems on my readers for – as Wm J Clinton once said – the worst reason in the world.

Because I can.

This one is from 1972.

the
dark
sat
at
light’s
feet
forever
asking
questions.

insatiable children, their rustling vestments wove
stories between them as

the light curled

at dark’s feet
forever

asking
favors

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2 comments

  1. I love it, Royce.


  2. I wonder what it is about good poetry that seppartates it from bad poetry, better not to ask questions, just enjoy it.



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