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Today's poem is by John Blair

The Body is His Book
        Love's mysteries in souls do grow,
        But yet the body is his book.

                John Donne, "The Ecstasies"

Today I want to think about ghosts
      the whispering of ghosts
the way they're said to wander
among the many things they loved
      the many things they truly did not
because the tie that binds is bitter
twine       the blood-soaked kind
butchers used to send you home
with       binding up the pretty meat
            pretty and neat       and the meat
like breath       enough to go around
for now       though scarce enough
at times       at times just scarce enough
(both breath and meat) for whispering
in this way that's just for one       just
enough for hunger       just enough
for air       among the bloody little
knots that nothing cuts but whispers
just loud enough to listen for       not
quite loud enough to hear.



Copyright © 2022 John Blair All rights reserved
from Pembroke Magazine
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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