The Meeting
Somewhere along the road
you meet up with yourself.
Recognition is immediate.
If it happens at the proper
time and place, you propose
a toast:
May you remain as my shadow
when I lie down.
May I live on as your ghost.
Then you pass, knowing you'll
never see yourself that way
again: the fires which burn
before you are your penance,
the ashes you leave behind are
your name.
Gerald Costanzo
sábado, 22 de março de 2008
The Meeting
Posted by vallera at 03:09
Labels: Dia Mundial da Poesia, Gerald Costanzo, poesia, poesia americana
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1 comments:
muita fixe.
phil
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