Orpheus by Graham Foust

To sing’s to field thought’s
failed arrow, then drop it,

as sadness surprises,
as always, then doesn’t,

its record all rumors, bits
of lithic in its meat,

and floats me dream-dead
to this, its constant room.

From: http://www.conjunctions.com/online/article/graham-foust-04-07-2021

Date: 2021

By: Graham Foust (1970- )