Loking into the archives of poetry I've written, my friend has written, and poetry we've shared from luminaries whose words touch us, I found this little gem from Derek Walcott, a poetry master.
The Fist
The fist clenched round my heart
loosens a little, and I gasp
brightness; but it tightens
again. When have I ever not loved
the pain of love? But this has moved
past love to mania. This has the strong
clench of the madman, this is
gripping the ledge of unreason, before
plunging howling in the abyss.
Hold hard then, heart. This way at least you live.
How did this make you feel?
1 comment:
Very powerful piece. What made you choose this one over his other pieces? Just curious...
Post a Comment