KAW: “the crow pierced you”

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Even Blake’s “poetic genius” (Los)

couldn’t accomplish its embodiment

alone. The story itself demands

a woman’s “weaving” ….

The eye sight is distance

and fails as we fall

for the I-site. Me. Me

oh my. Not you My

Captain. Aye! You

you listened.

To hear was here.                          

And there? There

will not be another

like you. Love you.

 “Held you for a little while.” 37 years.

Who? A poet

who found the rose in prose.

Our best Smith

hammering away

at our un-tempered iron.

Sources