I
only know that a rook
Ordering
its black feathers can so shine
As
to seize my senses, haul
My
eyelids up, and grant
A
brief respite from fear
Of
total neutrality.
Miracles occur.
Miracles occur.
If
you care to call those spasmodic
Tricks
of radiance
Miracles.
The wait's begun again,
The
long wait for the angel,
For
that rare, random descent.
Extract from Silvia Plath, "Black Rook in Rainy Weather"
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