Skip to content

Log Out

×

Poetry

What I have come to say is never quite
_____sufficient; what I have come to say falls
ever short, if reliably—my one,
_____my only certainty. This fact, for now,
can prove both deep discouragement and deep,
_____elusive hope. I’ve come to trust our words’
most modest crapshoot; I have come, as well,
_____to see their limit as my proof. If, one
fresh morning, I should come to apprehend
_____how ever full with presence every breath
now is—and even now—I have a sense
_____my words would grow so heavy as to still.
I suppose that morning then would open
_____to our eighth day, whose sunrise will not set.

 —for Warren Farha

Image depends on its subscribers and supporters. Join the conversation and make a contribution today.

+ Click here to make a donation.

+ Click here to subscribe to Image.


The Image archive is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.

Related Poetry

To Arm Ourselves Instead with Questions

By

Jessica Jacobs and Philip Metres

Forgiveness, and After

By

Suphil Lee Park

The Raising of the Bells

By

Bruce Bond

Galleys in the Sea

By

Julio Martínez Mesanza

Receive ImageUpdate, our free weekly newsletter featuring the best from Image and the world of arts & faith

* indicates required