. . . and spill gold over things that tell us who we are.” This is from “Learning the Language” by Henry Taylor. It’s a beautifully constructed poem that follows strict rules of rhyme and meter. When he won the Pulitzer Prize in 1986, his love of form was considered “unfashionable.” I can’t think of another contemporary poet who writes so clearly while honoring precise conventions. Here is the last sentence:
“Imagined air unweaves
our losses and dissolves
ourselves into ourselves,
scatters us into leaves
and you and I become
whatever words we may
have come so far to say.”
Henry Taylor, The Flying Change (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1985), p. 46.