So sad to see that Mark Strand died yesterday. Thankful he lived through this last Thanksgiving. Love this one from his book, The Weather of Words. Here’s a small part of it.
from Narrative Poetry / by Mark Strand
I wanted to remind them that the narrative poem takes the place of an absent narrative and is always absorbing the other’s absence so it can be named, and, at the same time, relinquishing its own presence to the awful solitudes of forgetfulness.
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