Tuesday, December 4, 2012

The Omen By Mammedaty, 1880-1932

Another season centers on this place,
Like memory the blood congeals in it;
And like memory, too, the sun recedes
Into the hazy, southern distance.
A vagrant heat hangs on the dark river,
and shadowns turn like smoke. An owl ascends
among the branches, clattering, remote
within its motion, intricate with age.

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