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In this most recent poetry salon, we talked about the genre of nature poetry, how it has changed over time, its intersection with social issues, and what can be made of the relatipnship between humans and it.
The first poem we looked at was a exerpt from Wordsworth's "The Prelude":
One summer evening (led by her) I found
A little boat tied to a willow tree
Within a rocky cave, its usual home.
Here's the Rumi-esque poem our salon put together:
Bring me wine, but wine which never grew.
I taste your exquisite Melos body, how special!
We can judge the morning's tensions
in the purple rings diffused into the tablecloth.
The Attic month begins with the first sighting of the new moon.
Our wine was sweet until the sun rose.
The dappled coat of…continue reading