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Poetry

Give me proof, said Thomas,

 

————-—and he could see a hole in the palm before him,

 

and inside the wound a glimpse

 

—————————————–—of the valley on the other side,

 

—–—what I call, for want of other words, the world,

 

—–—never my world,

 

—————————never the earth faith alone imagines.

 

This year is the hottest year on record,

 

———————and you can feel it pouring through the hole.

 

You can feel the wind that is invisible,

 

—————————–—though we see it in the olive trees,

 

what the air moves aside, as if to say, Am I not the proof you wanted.

 

—–—Am I not the blood.

 

 


 

Bruce Bond is the author of thirty books including Plurality and the Poetics of Self (Palgrave), Words Written Against the Walls of the City (LSU), Scar (Etruscan), Behemoth (New Criterion Prize), The Calling (Parlor), and Patmos (Juniper Prize, UMass).

 

 

 

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