Saturday, June 16, 2012

Now You Must Go Wherever You Wish by CARL PHILLIPS



In moments like this, when he shows what appears to be a purely
accidental grace, it seems
almost believable: death has changed him.
See how,
               as if having muscled finally a way clear of the dark,
a dark stripped of the very stars without which the night sky's
distance—and with it, the crossing of distance, meaning hope, risk,
ambition—wouldn't even be knowable,
                                                         he steps into the light, then out of it?

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