Friday, February 14, 2020

Without mystery, what chance for hope

--- Carl Phillips, from "A stillness between the hunting and the chase" in Wild is the Wind (2018)

From the poem
                                                . . .  But this is waking,
and this his favorite horse, whom he's never named,
that's how much he loves her, though she's
          branded, sure, the way all his horses are: "Without
mystery, what chance for hope"–in Latin, on the left
flank where it catches the light, loses it, the king
           sashless and in flight, though it looks processional,
he thinks–stately, almost–as the newly fallen believe
at first there's still a plan available: they'll save themselves.