A bee in the field. The house on the mountain
reveals itself to have been there through summer.
It's not a bee but a horse eating frosted grass
in the yawn light. Secrets, the anguish of smoke
...
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A bee in the field.... It's not a bee but a horse The horse has moved, it's not a horse.... but a woman a woman.... with a dead baby in her arms it's not a woman... but smoke on its knees..//.. Sorry, couldn't grasp the meaning or make any sense out of it. As a matter of fact, this doesn't fit anywhere into the definition of an Epithalamium. Thanks.
from the leaves of grass after a day the dazzling light sprinkles the heart of love for the marriage moon..............
" With a dead baby in her arms" ! Sadness. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
it's not a horse but a woman doing the stations of the cross with a dead baby in her arms......so touching. Beautiful poem.
The marriage of light particle to wave." Worthy to be modern poem of the Day.