The poem…

is a space capsule in which impossible combinations feel
casual. The body of the capsule is of necessity very strong to have
broken out of gravity. It is the hard case for the frail experiments
inside. Not frail in the wasted sense, but frail in the opposite sense:
the brief visibility of the invisible.

-Kay Ryan, from Specks

What is the poem, if not a path, a vivid glimpse of the invisible? I love how the poem slows down an experience, an idea, an object, to call it by name, leave it resting in the heat of our pockets.

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Categories: Inspiration, Writing

No comments yet.

Have a comment or reply?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: