the task we find is never to set straight
those who come limping to the summer feast
in search of all the savours we released
we do not snarl or tell them they are late
their style and manner we have not policed
the task we find is never to set straight
rather our duty's to keep wide the gate
and grant full favour even to the least
admitting all until the night has ceased
the task we find is never to set straight
1 comment:
I didn't dare sully the poetry thread at Making Light with a prose comment, but that entry, #22 on the thread, is damned fine.
(I would have used a more flavourful term, but I'm not sure what Blogspot does in the way of auto-censorship).
cheers,
Steve
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