2018-01-27



Last Songs
--Galway Kinnell 
1
What do they sing, the last birds
coasting down the twilight,
banking
across woods filled with darkness, their
frayed wings curved
on the world like lovers' arms
which form, night after night, in sleep,
an irremediable absence?  
2
Silence. Ashes
in the grate. Whatever it is
that keeps us from heaven,
sloth, wrath, greed, fear,
could we only reinvent it on earth
as song.




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