Thursday, 25 February 2010

A poem by the Dutch poet C.O. Jellema


Music: winter through windows open wide.
You hear the cold-held stars ring out so clear
as if they – thinking you – sped each light-year:
your ending, their beginning coincide.

Dispatched is what moved here, however small,
as cosmic image – but do eyes gaze there?
This hand has also, writing, moved through air,
in words devised a host of stars, starfall.

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