Homage to a Notebook of Poems I collected 20 years ago

I found a notebook from which 

            trumpet song tanned my skin

and let me breathe deep 

            the golden sense of persimmons

their voices (those poets)

            never wrinkle, even as pages yellow

 and my knuckles collect scars.

            echoes preserved in paper cathedrals
             
splicing the all and nothing of experience
 
           poetry our human whale-song




             

             

*Copyright abigfatcanofworms

19 thoughts on “Homage to a Notebook of Poems I collected 20 years ago

  1. Ahhh, Worms, this is absolutely beautiful and it’s a wonderful homage to aged poems/poetry (some sadly can be forgotten, so that’s why I love the entire idea of this piece giving respect to these poems all at once). You delineate a respect and grace of time-worn pages, but with voices as ethereal and eternal inside our minds in their impact. May that alone never fade as you are right, it is one of the songs we should hold close and listen carefully to as humans.

    I especially adore these lines, I could feel it wash over me with the imagery:

    “the golden sense of persimmons

    their voices (those poets)

    never wrinkle, even as pages yellow”

    Mesmerizing.

    Liked by 1 person

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