Steve C
Mar 6, 20211 min
Updated: Mar 12, 2022
It shadows me;
and sometimes when I pause
to push the world aside,
my hands retain the mold
of that first memory.
Then I feel its bold
breath within my nose,
odorless; on my lips,
tasteless; on my tongue
wordless. . . .
Quiet memory,
like an ear of corn,
silk lifting-- green and purple--
silent toward the sun,
newborn!
-from Listen to The Lord
--Arthur Roberts
Right Click Image Save:
Download PDF to Print: