Wednesday, April 11, 2012

3567. PENTILE

PENTILE
The Albert Pinkham Ryder sky
and me  -  let us pray. The broken
black-brown pattern high, running
fast and flying by. Death on a pale 
horse? Have it pass us by : we cannot
meet Death; where we are, it is not. 
Wherever it is, we are not. These
twain can never meet. If an absence
of Life is Death, then the absence of
Death must be Life. Live, thus, your
moment. Oh dark mountain, h dark
lanes of old America, let me climb
you, let me walk.

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