Poet Jane Hirshfield said "... the feeling I have about poem-writing (is) that it is always an exploration, of discovering something I didn't already know.  Who I am shifts from moment to moment, year to year.  What I can perceive does as well.  A new poem peers into mystery, into whatever lies just beyond the edge of knowable ground."

I bring a different poem to the writing classes each week, not only to inspire but to introduce new poets to the group members.

May Day by Phillis Levin

I've decided to waste my life again,
 Like I used to: get drunk on
 The light in the leaves, find a wall
 Against which something can happen,

 Whatever may have happened
 Long ago—let a bullet hole echoing 
 The will of an executioner, a crevice
 In which a love note was hidden,

 Be a cell where a struggling tendril
 Utters a few spare syllables at dawn.
 I've decided to waste my life
 In a new way, to forget whoever

 Touched a hair on my head, because
 It doesn't matter what came to pass, 
 Only that it passed, because we repeat
 Ourselves, we repeat ourselves.

 I've decided to walk a long way
 Out of the way, to allow something
 Dreaded to waken for no good reason,
 Let it go without saying,

 Let it go as it will to the place 
 It will go without saying: a wall
 Against which a body was pressed 
 For no good reason, other than this.
~ from May Day. © Penguin Books, 2008.

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