The Jewel
There is this cave
In the air behind my body
That nobody is going to touch:
A cloister, a silence
Closing around a blossom of fire.
When I stand upright in the wind,
My bones turn to dark emeralds.
- James Wright
The Jewel
There is this cave
In the air behind my body
That nobody is going to touch:
A cloister, a silence
Closing around a blossom of fire.
When I stand upright in the wind,
My bones turn to dark emeralds.
- James Wright
[...] And this is one of them. A poem like a craggy tree in black silhouette against a bright drought sky in a hot dry wind. A poem that has dark emerald bones. [...]