Petit, the Poet
Edgar Lee Masters (1868–1950). Spoon River Anthology. 1916.
86. Petit, the Poet
86. Petit, the Poet
SEEDS in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick, | |
Tick, tick, tick, like mites in a quarrel— | |
Faint iambics that the full breeze wakens— | |
But the pine tree makes a symphony thereof. | |
Triolets, villanelles, rondels, rondeaus, | 5 |
Ballades by the score with the same old thought: | |
The snows and the roses of yesterday are vanished; | |
And what is love but a rose that fades? | |
Life all around me here in the village: | |
Tragedy, comedy, valor and truth, | 10 |
Courage, constancy, heroism, failure— | |
All in the loom, and oh what patterns! | |
Woodlands, meadows, streams and rivers— | |
Blind to all of it all my life long. | |
Triolets, villanelles, rondels, rondeaus, | 15 |
Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick, | |
Tick, tick, tick, what little iambics, | |
While Homer and Whitman roared in the pine |
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