The stone is a mirror which works poorly. Nothing in it but dimness. Your dimness or its dimness, who's to say? In the hush your heart sounds like a black cricket.
Charles SimicHere in the United States, we speak with reverence of authentic experience. We write poems about our daddies taking us fishing and breaking our hearts by making us throw the little fish back into the river. We even tell the reader the kind of car we were driving, the year and the model, to give the impression that itโs all true. Itโs because we think of ourselves as journalists of a kind. Like them, weโll go anywhere for a story. Donโt believe a word of it. As any poet can tell you, one often sees better with eyes closed than with eyes wide open.
Charles Simic