Blog | Finally got It Right |
Just yesterday I had the heady experience of rescuing an old, old fragment from the 1970’s by finding the right words for the right place.
On Burning A Copy of the Inferno
the paper curls
in the fire:
Dante tiptoes to
the lowest circle;
the paper blooms
like a sooty flower:
Dante blazes in
his greatest hour;
the paper crumbles
into cold ashes:
Dante’s words are
the Devil’s wishes.
The replaced line read:
“the paper flames/ like a blooming flower.” The substitution works enough to allow me to reclaim the poem, however slight, from the scrap heap. I had a quiet cup of coffee by myself in celebration, and I toasted my younger self: intense eyes, slim hips, unflagging self-confidence, and all.
