Thursday, August 24, 2017

"Then he started to write another poem

a short time before death, 
about drinking wine again in the village —
He was working on the poem when they buried him, 
so that half a line protruded from the earth
                                 in wind and weather's hearing —
With sunlight touching the first young syllables, 
the last ones flowering from a dark coffin: 
                      "marketplace the in/drink more One"

from Lu Yu
by Al Purdy

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