Benn says “word and sound,” not meaning and wisdom. A poem, initially encountered, is a poised ferment of word and sound that promises a third thing. Sound tells us that we are on the brink of the actual. When we sit alone and read, what is the sound humming in our heads while the poem’s intimations begin to murmur?
The excerpt provided belongs to the prior post "In Case You Wondered ..."
ReplyDeleteThanks, George. It's fixed. Don't know how that happened.Using blogger with my iPad has proved somewhat problematic. I can't, for instance, post a comment using my iPad.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome. If the iPad supports Chrome, perhaps that would work. The internet is great until it isn't. The best I can say for us techies is that keeping up with these things probably drives us crazier than it drives everyone else.
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