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Saturday, December 8, 2018

All Things Burn / Goodridge MacDonald


All Things Burn

All things burn; burning white
snow consumes sun, alight
in grey, this December day:
— Never is the burning done.

At the street end, smoulder plumes
of poplar (and smoke-heavy hair
weighs upon hungry fingers ) — smoke
of ash-white limbs.

Burn, burn, O fiery feet, to brand
memorial minutes, for a wind
awakes, that will disperse
dust from the burning about the universe.

~~
Goodrige MacDonald (1897-1967)
from Recent Poems, 1957

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada]

Goodridge MacDonald biography

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