HummingbirdI can imagine, in some otherworld |
Primeval-dumb, far back |
In that most awful stillness, that only gasped and hummed, |
Humming-birds raced down the avenues. |
Before anything had a soul, |
While life was a heave of Matter, half inanimate, |
This little bit chipped off in brilliance |
And went whizzing through the slow, vast, succulent stems. |
I believe there were no flowers, then, |
In the world where the humming-bird flashed ahead of creation. |
I believe he pierced the slow vegetable veins with his long beak. |
Probably he was big |
As mosses, and little lizards, they say were once big. |
Probably he was a jabbing, terrifying monster. |
We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time, |
Luckily for us. by D.H. Lawrence |
Sunday, 6 January 2013
Words of the week #5
Labels:
Poetry,
Words of the Week
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