On The Margins Of A Poem

The poem

that I chose for you

is simple,

as are all my singing poems.

It has the trace of a veil,

a little balsam,

and a taste of the honey

of lies.

There is also

the coming end of summer

when heat scorches the meadow

and the quick waters

of the river

cease to flow.

~ Jiri Mordecai Langer

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It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things. ~ Stephen Mallarme