Sunflower (M.A. Reilly, 2013, Hipstamatic) |
From a Place: Fragments VII
by Margaret Atwood
An other sense tugs at us:
we have lost something,
some key to these things
which must be writings
and are locked against us
or perhaps (like a potential
mine, unknown vein
of metal in the rock)
something not lost or hidden
but just not found yet
we have lost something,
some key to these things
which must be writings
and are locked against us
or perhaps (like a potential
mine, unknown vein
of metal in the rock)
something not lost or hidden
but just not found yet
that informs,
holds together this confusion,
this largeness and dissolving:
holds together this confusion,
this largeness and dissolving:
not above or behind
or within it, but one
with it: an
or within it, but one
with it: an
identity:
something too huge and simple
for us to see.
something too huge and simple
for us to see.
You convey what I hope for. It is a slippery thing, who we are. To easily confused or corrupted.
ReplyDeleteTerrific mentor and shared reading text, Mary Ann. I've added the poem to the #cyberpd book list padlet.
ReplyDelete