““...Yes, now the roads themselves are shattered As though they had fallen from a height, and the sky Is cracked like varnish. Hard to believe, Our family tree Seems to be making its mark everywhere. I carry my head high On a pike that shall be nameless. Even so, we had to give up honor entirely, But I do what I can. I am patient With the woes of the cupboards, and God knows― I keep the good word close to hand like a ticket. I feed the wounded lights in their cages. I wake up at night on the penultimate stroke, and with My eyes still shut I remember to turn the thorn In the breast of the bird of darkness. I listen to the painful song Dropping away into sleep...””
![“The thing that makes poetry different from all other arts [is that] you're using language, which is what you use for everything else--telling lies and selling socks, advertising and conducting law. Whereas we don't write little concerti to each other, or paint pictures.” quote by W.S. Merwin](https://sms4smile.com/quotes/img-quotes/d26/w-s-merwin-2-23725_art_the-thing-that-makes-poetry-different-fr_508289.jpg)
