No beauty but in things
the healer-poet said
catching doyens by surprise
hammers for instance
immortal in their cold function
by comparison
but what about a poem
what's a poem's purpose—
consolation, could it be?
everyone is dying yes
a sad and angry consolation
that'd be my guess
that's beautiful
once more
a sad and angry consolation
and consolation's no
small comfort barefoot
on this woodland path.
