Choice
He makes me miss her, miss bike rides and gossip,
With a single word in a brief review of a poet I've never read
Or never remembered reading.
He makes me lonely writing about English poets
Whose observances release the person walking alone
Among those he serves.
He makes me restless as the clouds blow away,
Sunlight like a church service just calling the backyard
From some seasonal sin.
He makes me remember a footfall field
Upon which we waited to graduate over the crushed dirt
Of victory and defeat.
He makes me vanish; he makes me stab upward
Like the lawn outside a sanctuary, which knows
A single sermon,
A single hymn.
This is truly an amazing piece of writing C. I absolutely adore each line. I especially love "he makes me stab upward like the lawn outside a sanctuary which knows a single sermon a single hymm." This is a glorious write of how one man's inspiration can inspire another!
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