Skip to main content
Here we have thirst
and patience, from the first,
and art, as in a wave held up for us to see
in its essential perpendicularity;

not brittle but
intense—the spectrum, that
spectacular and nimble animal the fish,
Whose scales turn aside the sun's sword by their polish.
Rate this poem
Average: 4.9 (9 votes)
Reviews
No reviews yet.