The Poet is Dead
A memorial for Robinson Jeffers
In the evening the dusk
Stipples with light. The long shore
Gathers darkness in on itself
And goes cold. From the lap of silence
All the tide-crest’s pivotal immensity
Lifts into the land.
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Leave a Comment » | Guest Author, Poetry, Reading | Tagged: Beat poetry, Poetry, USA, William Everson | Permalink
Posted by RK
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