{"id":4582,"date":"2009-11-08T07:12:53","date_gmt":"2009-11-08T11:12:53","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/?p=4582"},"modified":"2009-10-22T13:46:54","modified_gmt":"2009-10-22T17:46:54","slug":"poetry-sunday-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/?p=4582","title":{"rendered":"Poetry Sunday"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><b>Hornworm: Autumn Lamentation<\/b><br \/>\nStanley Kunitz<\/p>\n<p>Since that first morning when I crawled<br \/>\ninto the world, a naked grubby thing,<br \/>\nand found the world unkind,<br \/>\nmy dearest faith has been that this<br \/>\nis but a trial: I shall be changed.<br \/>\nIn my imaginings I have already spent<br \/>\nmy brooding winter underground,<br \/>\nunfolded silky powdered wings, and climbed<br \/>\ninto the air, free as a puff of cloud<br \/>\nto sail over the steaming fields,<br \/>\nalighting anywhere I pleased,<br \/>\nthrusting into deep tubular flowers.<\/p>\n<p>It is not so: there may be nectar<br \/>\nin those cups, but not for me.<br \/>\nAll day, all night, I carry on my back<br \/>\nembedded in my flesh, two rows<br \/>\nof little white cocoons,<br \/>\nso neatly stacked<br \/>\nthey look like eggs in a crate.<br \/>\nAnd I am eaten half away.<\/p>\n<p>If I can gather strength enough<br \/>\nI&#8217;ll try to burrow under a stone<br \/>\nand spin myself a purse<br \/>\nin which to sleep away the cold;<br \/>\nthough when the sun kisses the earth<br \/>\nagain, I know I won&#8217;t be there.<br \/>\nInstead, out of my chrysalis<br \/>\nwill break, like robbers from a tomb,<br \/>\na swarm of parasitic flies,<br \/>\nleaving my wasted husk behind.<\/p>\n<p>Sir, you with the red snippers<br \/>\nin your hand, hovering over me,<br \/>\ncasting your shadow, I greet you,<br \/>\nwhether you come as an angel of death<br \/>\nor of mercy. But tell me,<br \/>\nbefore you choose to slice me in two:<br \/>\nWho can understand the ways<br \/>\nof the Great Worm in the Sky? <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Hornworm: Autumn Lamentation Stanley Kunitz Since that first morning when I crawled into the world, a naked grubby thing, and found the world unkind, my dearest faith has been that this is but a trial: I shall be changed. In my imaginings I have already spent my brooding winter underground, unfolded silky powdered wings, and [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4582","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-whatever"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4582","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4582"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4582\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4976,"href":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4582\/revisions\/4976"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4582"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4582"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.shadowmanor.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4582"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}