Late Echo
by John Ashbery
Alone with our madness and favorite flower
We see that there really is nothing left to write about.
Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things
In the same way, repeating the same things over and over
For love to continue and be gradually different.Read the rest of it here.
This reminded me a little (the ideas, not the writing, since his is far better than mine) of a poem I wrote back in 2016 and posted here.
We really do keep circling back to the same ideas in our writing - or at least, I do, and John Ashbery apparently did, too.
(Speaking of madness and favorite flowers, I also keep taking lots of versions of the same photos, again and again.)
Today's line for the Progressive Poem is here.
1 comment:
I don't keep tabs as you do, Ruth, but copy & paste the poems/prose I like into files, of which I have many. I remember this one, and agreed. We do write similar things, except life changes pull new topics out. Your photos remind me of how many times I take pictures of the sky. I refrain, but could find some part I love every day! I loved your poem that time you posted and do again today!
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