an almost accidental gathering of poets
 
   
 
 
Cid Corman
 (1964)
The Tortoise
Always to want to
go back, to correct
an error, ease a

guilt, see how a friend
is doing. And yet
one doesn´t, except

in memory, in
dreams. The land remains
desolate. Always

the feeling is of
terrible slowness
overtaking haste.
   
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