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"Sandra Gilbert's poems are beautifully situated at the intersection of craft and feeling."—Billy Collins
from "Aftermath: Kite"
But the thought is only paper after all,
a soul that clings to a stick, tears open, shreds
as if it's flung to the ground in a final shiny fall,
and at last the line goes limp, the climbing ends.
Beyond the rush & sweep, an arc of silence—
though a mind imagined this flight, & proved it once.