is made of salt and noise and dew. Every poem is Eden and every poet
is Adam and isn’t that the silver gate unlatched by a hermit soldierwielding a sword of flame? Open the windows: magnolias and their
rottingblooms. Latch that gate: keep out the drought, the ruin post-solstice,our season’s late blaze. I am counting, counting, and this is what I learn —Jennifer Chang
One response to “is made of salt and noise and dew. Every poem is Eden and every poet”
Very beautiful.