In the work of Mark Strand (1934–2015), desolation and isolation come to have their own cadenc
In the work of Mark Strand (1934–2015), desolation and isolation come to have their own cadence — one of timelessness, acceptance, and even sly comfort extended to the reader. (This classic, known by heart to Strand’s fans, seemed to call out for a broadside.)A Piece of the StormFrom the shadow of domes in the city of domes,A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your roomAnd made its way to the arm of the chair where you, looking upFrom your book, saw it the moment it landed. That’s allThere was to it. No more than a solemn wakingTo brevity, to the lifting and falling away of attention, swiftly,A time between times, a flowerless funeral. No more than thatExcept for the feeling that this piece of the storm,Which turned into nothing before your eyes, would come back,That someone years hence, sitting as you are now, might say:“It’s time. The air is ready. The sky has an opening.”More on this book and author:Learn more about Collected Poems by Mark Strand.Browse other books by Mark Strand.Visit our Tumblr to peruse poems, audio recordings, and broadsides in the Knopf poem-a-day series.To share the poem-a-day experience with friends, pass along this link. -- source link
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