KAW: “the crow pierced you”
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.
Jack of Spades - Ken Warren