and yet another one for you

a poem that I wrote yesterday night
but that will never see the light here

and then I discover that
someone had written this other poem
with so much more
poetry and musicality

and with the same love nonetheless

published in 1920
many
so many years ago

a poet who lived and died
before I was even born
before I was even the remotest
idea
in any of my grandparents' dreams

this is what I'm sharing
until you ask me otherwise

Altitude Lola Ridge

I wonder how it would be here with you, where the wind that has shaken off its dust in low valleys touches one cleanly, as with a new-washed hand, and pain is as the remote hunger of droning things, and anger but a little silence sinking into the great silence.