I'm always finding poems I should have known about before publishing the Lorca book. An elegy for Lorca by Thomas Merton starts like this:
Where the white bridge rears up its stamping arches
Proud as a colt across the clatter of the shallow river,
The sharp guitars
Have never forgotten your name.
1 comment:
That is quite good. It seems familiar, too, but it is shockingly good.
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