XV

Don June 27th, 2008

XV Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”   

            I’m back from England, and so we return for a while to our history of the growth of my poetic mind.  There is no form to add interest to this next poem, but I include it anyway for the sake of an arresting image:

 IMPRESSION: SUN”S RAYS 

It is evening—

And the Sun, tired from a full day’s work,

Rests feebly behind a cloud,

Reaching earthward with golden fingers to

Steady herself for one last look at the

World before she drops gratefully

Into bed.

Donald T. Williams, PhD

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