Frank Bidart Quotes

Though the body is its
genesis, a poem is the vision of a process

Out of ceaseless motion in edgeless space

Carved in space, vision your poor eye's single
armor against winter spring summer fall

drugged to sleep by repetition of the diurnal
round, the monotonous sorrow of the finite,

within       I am awake

repairing in dirt the frayed immaculate thread
forced by being to watch the birth of suns

The stratagems by which briefly you
ameliorated, even seemingly

untwisted what still twists within you -

you loved their taste and lay there
on your side

nursing like a puppy.