Thursday, March 31, 2022

The Pure Obscure, Terzata #40

The peregrine’s flight, obscure

From speed the eye can’t clearly see,

Takes life in the air, fast and pure.


The wings of the bumble bee

Carry its rotund yellow and black

With aimless invisibility.


Fish beneath frozen ice lack

Form and color and disappear

When seen and don’t come back.


Words are noise and letters blear —

Their insensatenesses inure

Us to understanding. What’s clear

Is unseen, or if seen, a blur.

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