Finch
Everything costs
some thing, some
time, some one.
One is surely the
number of beauty:
every flicker of wing
is a whip. If beauty
reigns it reigns over
the broken. The gold
is for falling, is for
the brutalities you
hope won’t tarnish.
The gold is for
quickening, is for
never lifting above.
©Copyright 2008 University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved.
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