Eclipse of the Moon HTML version

who are sleeping in the ruins of loves that shake
you —
and I let you go on sleeping without a word.
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He:Tragedy is about you,
Comedy about us.
She:I think that's true.
What business
has tragedy with what connects?
Or rather, it's our connections,
comedy what we suspect.
He:That we're capable of correction.
She:Learning is comic, then.
He:In learning tragedy our laughter
flows through all men.
She:The knowledge comes after.
Tragedy is not about me
since I am us.
He:Though you are what I see
In tragic business.
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As a tree bends to the storm,
so this poem.
My rage alone allows
the swing and bow,
tossing to circumstance
as to a dance.
The strong and slippery bark,
shining, dark,
in graceful submissiveness
to all that is,
the wind, the night, the sap,
cracks and snaps
and will not break. The dawn
finds leaves down
and light reveals the tree
exhausted, free.
The turgor in the twigs
resilient springs,
permits the full escape
of prisoned ache