Bale
by Nicholas Manning
rains
reigns in the love we
a gallon of dark
core
d-apple-d
antecedents
drawls of gravel
draw colours by the fading
of to hear your ear errs
to hear this awe or
to hear this drip
of the ripe
spring
in
the darkness
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1 comment:
I adore these, these lines of Nicholas', the way his poems in rewords keep tapering down into something, one place, line, word, set of syllables, the way his voice carries him through clearly all the spaces it has traveled, all our words like burrs from others on his sweater, are still and only his words, as if this landscape of vocabulary were his alone. Resonant. Merci NM!!--JKD
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