The Hierophant
September 25, 2016 at 5:48 pm Leave a comment
The Hierophant
We’ve waited for hours
in this dusky, dusty place.
Anger and fear
are mixed in our breasts
as we wait on,
kneeling, heads bowed. (Perhaps
the blindness
is hardest to bear. I think
I’ve memorized
this cracked patch
of floor.)
Or perhaps
these hours
have been my life
as I wait
for meaning.
The personal pronoun, unusually, is capitalized, but it seems fitting. I generally don’t use it simply because English is the one and the only for many things, but I think most irritatingly for this; it capitalizes the personal pronoun.
Entry filed under: Ancient Poetry, definitions, social psychology, voices. Tags: poetry, voices.
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