Mar 25 2009
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April 21, 2008: Because You Asked about the Line between Prose and Poetry, Howard Nemerov
Because You Asked about the Line between Prose and Poetry
Howard Nemerov
Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow. There came a moment that you couldn’t tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell.
[A double feature with yesterday’s poem. For another prose poem, see one year ago today.]
A year ago today: Open Letter to the Muse, Kristy Bowen
Two years ago: A Sad Child, Margaret Atwood
Three years ago: The Crunch, Charles Bukowski
