Al Fresco Café Poems #213
Renata's Poem:
The Birth Of The Author #50
It was as if the dark silver strip
were a sheet and had been
rolled over the ground
as is a rug is rolled over a floor.
But the dark silver strip was not
unloaded from a trunk
to become a domestic scene.
The dark silver strip
had its beginning, its origin
underground in a swamp,
its origin in an underground river,
a river flowing unseen
by man’s observations,
known only
by man’s surmises.
Duane Locke
Posted over on Cezanne's Carrot
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