“And what were men and what was a ship / Were toys and splinters in the sea’s grip.”

[larryhammer]

Back to Poetry Monday postings. This seems appropriate for that:


Against Entropy, John M. Ford

The worm drives helically through the wood
And does not know the dust left in the bore
Once made the table integral and good;
And suddenly the crystal hits the floor.
Electrons find their paths in subtle ways,
A massless eddy in a trail of smoke;
The names of lovers, light of other days --
Perhaps you will not miss them. That's the joke.
The universe winds down. That's how it's made.
But memory is everything to lose;
Although some of the colors have to fade,
Do not believe you'll get the chance to choose.
Regret, by definition, comes too late;
Say what you mean. Bear witness. Iterate.


---L.

Subject quote from The White Ship, Dante Rossetti.

Comments

[graydon]

"Favorite Ford poem" is a dangerous category to contemplate, but this one is way up there.

[larryhammer]

Both halves of that are so, so true.

[thistleingrey]

Yes.