Poem of the Day: This Most Perfect Hill
On this most perfect hill
with these most perfect dogs
are these most perfect people
and this most perfect fog
In this most perfect fog
that is the middle of the sea
inside the perfect middle of
the things inside that swing
In this most perfect rhyme
that takes up what it sees,
with perfect shelter from the
rain as perfect as can be,
In this most perfect day
at the apex of the sun
runs this most perfect
frog song that is roiling
from the mud
In these most perfect habits
of the waving of the trees,
through this imperfect language
rides a perfect brilliancy.
Lisa Jarnot
____________________________________________________________________
This most pefect space
Above this quite dreadful earth that only
Insists on doing worse once they’ve done bad . . .
With an almost unknown, magnificent
space that keeps expanding every day.
Every planet, moon, and mineral move
and this most perfect solar system
that is in the middle of the Milky Way
which lay inside a huge universe.
A place remarkable and confusing.
In this almost perfect rhyme you
see
a cacophony of flames and lights
singing our history ever so bright.
They take up everything even if
we can’t see
them dancing in the sky or
shooting by us.
They have no shelter but needn’t
one either.
They live as calm, as calm as can
be.
They deal with no rain, or storms
as perfect as can be.
In this most perfect day, in this
most perfect night
At the apex of the sun the flames
dance.
They brighten our day and they
tame the night.
The night is now safe from a
darker shadow.
A shadow of nothing yet
everything too.
This shadow knows how to talk to
space.
Through an imperfect language
they speak
about keeping an equilibrium.
About separating the night and
day.
About how if one ruled over the
other
Then these dancing flames might
wither away.
Their rest is during morn when
they can just stay
But as soon as night comes they
must dance it away.
And through this imperfect language
lies a perfect brilliancy
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