Spring Beauties ——Ruth Stone

Published 2014-12-19 by joejoy12

The abandoned campus,empty brick buildings and early June when you came to visit me; crossing the states midway,    the straggled belts of little roads; hitchhiking with your portable typewriter. The campus, an academy of trees, under which some hand, the wind’s I guess, had scattered the pale light  of thousands of spring beauties, petals stained with pink veins;    secret, blooming for themselves. We sat among them.  Your long fingers, thin body,  and long bones of improbable genius;   some scattered gene as Kafka must have had. Your deep voice, this passing dust of miracles.That simple that was myself, half conscious,   as though each moment was a page where words appeared; the bent hammer of the type  struck against the moving ribbon. The light air, the restless leaves; the ripple of time warped by our longing.There, as if we were painted  by some unknown impressionist. 



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