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  Dec 2016 shanovanna
Edgar Allan Poe
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream:
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
  Dec 2016 shanovanna
Ezra Pound
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
  Dec 2016 shanovanna
Ezra Pound
Green arsenic smeared on an egg-white cloth,
Crushed strawberries! Come, let us feast our eyes.
shanovanna Dec 2016
alone on a frozen lake, submerged in layers of ubiquitous noise.
Not paradoxical silence brimming with gentle hum but the eerie crack of fragile bones.
Last breath before drowning
in the stinging air
slight gasp and pulling apart of frozen lips
the fractured light fades beyond frosted periwinkle.
Ice laced with opalescent dust absorbing everything
Except a numbed persimmon sun dangling on the precipice,
A losing battle.
crystalline ring of disturbed snow refracts a thousand times too late while
Clean pungent smoke rising above the horizon melts air and earth into an infinite line.
The winter can be incredibly beautiful and equally inhospitable.

— The End —