It's not usually held as fact but I believe poems anticipate their color and taste. Just as I sit anticipating the aroma of this special rice my body leans toward the black notebook. Seconds before, three fingers lift the fountain pen.
Inevitable is taste. And before than, inevitable is anticipation.
Rice and poems share in common several genes.
(H) cont.
ReplyDeleteAll who had sailed in the coastal village
either to fish or travel for work
became suspect in the eyes of the foreman
and he made a note of their name on his rolls
As they returned from their break by the fountain
the fragrance of peaches and nostalgia
on their hands
he watched them with particular interest
and saw where they sat and what they did
Soon it was clear that he knew something
that was not shared bt anyone else
and he kept his scret knowledge
close to him, like a bird