Athur Boyars (title)
 
 


 

At Twenty-Five

 


Poet for a moment, more often
There are planets silent in equipoise
Or flash, aspiring to rhetoric,
Both these, his starred eyes.

Unready, as yet, for calms,
He will not rest, boding, gulping in,
But rears as Giant Unease
Clambers his branches on great feet.



 

 

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