The poem, I’ve always felt, is an opportunity for me to create an integrated whole from so many broken shards --Rafael Campo
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Sharks' Teeth
By Kay Ryan
Everything contains some
silence. Noise gets
its zest from the
small shark's-tooth-
shaped fragments
of rest angled
in it. An hour
of city holds maybe
a minute of these
remnants of a time
when silence reigned,
compact and dangerous
as a shark. Sometimes
a bit of a tail
or fin can still
be sensed in parks.
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Kay Ryan
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