Flatland: Variations on a Ballad
Steven Wittenberg Gordon
IV
Cold crags
covered in snow
echoes
on an icy wind--
a wolf song
from eagle’s beak--
my voice surrounds you.
My hug is grizzly.
My foot roots hold.
My blood flows
and I am warm.
But I awake in pain
on a bed of blades
in a geometric plane.
My spirit fades.
Poet's Notes: It would be a stretch to call Part IV a ballad. It retains the traditional four-line stanza, but the stanzas are hardly quatrains--one line is even a single word. The easily understood musical qualities of the original and second versions have become strained, more surreal, with only imperfect echoes in the final stanza.
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