This poem is taken from PN Review 178, Volume 34 Number 2, November - December 2007.
From Poems of Paul Crouch1
No sudden blast,
but now you're looking
back to the best,
to those dragonfly days,
and you know from the morning's
beechy tarnish
already autumn's in the grove; -
no sudden blast,
a slow decline,
and you go on living
ad interim , hoping
day by day not
for content, no, but still
for some insight's birdsong
perhaps, before dark.
...
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