Tuesday, December 09, 2003

Against My Old Age

The ancients purchase peace intent in towers
Watching for bursting light the east and Patmos.
They wither to spirit.

                                  The years quiet to stone
The tide that plunges and rages in the heart
And smashes boxwood craft.

The eagle has talons, they can pluck the sight
The dazzling star usurps the long-held spirit
The human topples over in divinity.

Oh that I mastered--but the blood must shrivel
Before the vast abysmal heart can heal.

--A.J. Seymour, p. 120 in the Collected Poems.

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