Everyday suns are rarely wonders.
In sight the secret is humility.
Gifts tend to lose connection with their sources;
Having lived can generate divorces
That isolate our selves from what we see.
Yet nothing is more native than what sunders
The action from the act. Or plunders
What is for what is not. Or forces
Our eyes to solve what remains a mystery.
All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
