Thursday, February 12, 2009

Hello From Hiroshima

Think how it wakes the seeds,--

Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.

Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides,

full-nerved--still warm--too hard to stir?

Was it for this the clay grew tall?

[Wilfred Owen]
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1 comment:

wattee said...

yes, i wonder too - why are things the way they are?