The poem's not as bad as I recall it being. It has some quotable lines -
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Green
ages into blood that boils to the treetops, dries and falls. The strewn grounds become a counting house where he plucks a flower that was once a pattern on her carpet |
and contains several attempts to preserve the past, however imperfectly. Map-makers have tried several ways to represent the globe on a flat surface -
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trying to preserve the angles, the shortest distances, the areas, but he can't have them all or even any 2 |
and a hummingbird can only stay still by flapping its wings so fast that they disappear, like his memories of her.
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as ghosts aren't seen in mirrors nor was she in dreams and his heart became a sucking hummingbird, wings sacrificed for stillness. |
The photo's from Leicester.
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