I bought myself a new poetry book yesterday... I picked it up because of the author's name: Jane Kenyon. However, after I read a few poems I decided to buy it because I actually really like her style. So, here's a sample for you...
The Shirt
The shirt touches his neck
and smooths over his back.
It slides down his sides.
It even goes down below his belt-
down into his pants.
Lucky shirt.
Who
These lines are written
by an animal, an angel,
a stranger sitting in my chair;
by someone who already knows
how to live without trouble
among books, and pots and pans...
Who is it who asks me to find
language for the sound
a sheep's hoof makes when it strikes
a stone? And who speaks
the words which are my food?
Fun stuff.
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