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The Thin Edge of Your Pride



On this bright winter morning I was reading Kenneth Rexroth. This poem popped up, making me miss the farm. This is from Rexroth's 1949 [The Art of Worldly Wisdom] and the title is "The thin edge of your pride."


XII


After a hundred years have slept over us

Autumn will still be painting the Berkshires;

Gold and purple storms will still

Climb over the Catskills.

They will have to look a long time

For my name in the musty corners of libraries;

Utter forgetfulness will mock

Your uncertain ambitions.

But there will be other lovers,

Walking along the hill crests,

Climbing, to sit entranced

On pinnacles in the sunset,

In the moonrise.

The Catskills,

The Berkshires,

Have good memories.


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