Sunday, July 10, 2011

The Man with the Blue Guitar (XXIV)


A poem like a missal found
In the mud, a missal for that young man,

That scholar hungriest for that book,
The very book, or, less, a page

Or, at the least, a phrase, that phrase,
A hawk of life, that latined phrase:

To know; a missal for brooding-sight.
To meet that hawk's eye and to flinch

Not a the eye but at the joy of it.
I play. But this is what I think.

Wallace Stevens
from The Man with the Blue Guitar, 1937

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada]

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