SF (June 17 1942 / Troy New York)

The Poems/ Such As They Are

The poems
Such as they are
Come to me
I have them
And I live with them
And through them-
But what are they really?
And what am I really?
And if they were true poems
What would they too be in the end?

Brief is life
And brief is art
And brief brief
All we know of human destiny

The empty spaces and the endless stars
And the worlds we will never know
Are beyond us
In all dimensions

And we are alone
Praying to God
With our fear.

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