Monday, May 11, 2020

On Transcendent Poetry - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

On Transcendent Poetry

Contra Wallace Stevens

That which is modern can only decay
Locked within the prison of transience
Ossification as a death sentence
Always refusing to roll the stone away

That which is modern is immediately lost
But springtime, flowers, pilgrimages, lovers
The darling, dancing hummingbird that hovers
Are ever young, not dead eternal frost

That which is modern is fast-rotting flesh
That which is transcendent is always fresh

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