April 4th, 2009


Because You Asked About/The Line Between Poetry and Prose

Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow.
There came a moment when you couldn’t tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell.

--Howard Nemerov

First came across that poem in the context of an article about LambdaMOO, finally tracked down to the source. I like the original context still. In LambdaMOO you could cast 'spells', lines of text that scrolled down the screen for others to see. This one someone embedded in a snowstorm. So imagine those lines appearing one by one, amidst a flurry of asterisks * * ** ** ** * * * **