According to
kaffyr , it is National Poetry Month! I think poetry is my favorite sort of literature sometimes. It's as if a mood mated with a puzzle and then they had a strange incantation-child that can take almost any form it wishes and yet is beguilingly solid. I'll admit I like the difficult stuff that you can rip through in layers and layers and layers and need to look at from twelve different angles, but that does take quite a lot of time and concentration. Below the cut then, two relatively brief and straight-forward poems. Both real favorites of mine. Both have been haunting me a bit of late because of certain thematic resonances I'm seeing with Doctor Who . . .
( The burnt-out ends of smoky days . . . )
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( The burnt-out ends of smoky days . . . )