new zealand electronic poetry centre
  
   Capital of  the minimal
J e a n n e   B e r n h a r d t
Your self of lost ground

 
NO BOUGH LEFT
 

As one must when promised, begrudge
a gift, the time it took, when added
forms a lesser, a tomorrow, a later
must question your life - what life it is?
To recall no bough left, no lilac
flower drifting

 
 
 

 
Jeanne Bernhardt 2004

 


 

 


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Last updated 13 July, 2004