Days of 1912 by Gregory Woods.

Days of 1912 by Gregory Woods

Outside, the bedlam of the human race
Proceeds. The silence in this book-lined space
Is metaphorical, conveyed by tone.
Aloft, aloof, not lonely but alone,
The Poet listens, then rejoins the noise
To look for gods disguised as mortal boys.
So human are these heart-convulsing few,
Each is a miracle. Descended to
The common herd but from more lofty stock,
They raise the spirits as they stir the cock.

 

 

 

you can find a little bit more info on the poet and hear him read, here.