Doubtful. Just there, outside of meter's grasp. In the palm of meaning. And, of course, breath. Which is to say meaning. Comma or no.
Plenty caesura and commas in a meal. For instance, that unmistakable ping of pepper stops and then jump starts the tongue. Or the sigh after conversation & wine. Of course, after the crab has been cracked. Examples, innumerable. Always something is in season. Silence, respite & blessing, never more so.
1/25/12
ReplyDeleteRight about now, the champagne should be chilling, and all the blessed little lawn markers put away for summer, for it is a new day, a new month, a new year.
Not again and not ever, says the companion of the famous explorer, stuck high on a mountain in the middle of dawn.
All tents taken down, all signs of breakfast swept up and stowed in the cooler, for the moving of bodies and their foodstuffs.
Doubt that it could be taken much farther, whispers the smallest sherpa, known in the books as the strongest, most compliant.
Distance has no ally in the darkness, in the mud, and we who watch such folly know better:
celebrations of a certain nature, those most deserved, blast apart the seams, flame aloft.