Thoughts On: Reading Berryman

Connecticut shade wrapper stained
fingers wrapped around a pen
He was off and writing again
Reading Berryman’s dark Dream Songs
Sitting in the bright May sun

Ripples of truth sought on a watery bed
Of melted, azure glacial ice
And a fresh mix of
Yellow blood spilt on the pool deck

Seeking an aphorism
Amongst crushed crustaceans
Higher thought of deeper meaning understood
Rebirth of Renaissance
Reborn at midlife
And moving: On

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, May, 2017.


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