Anne Carson in her book, If Not, Winter, presents fragments of the poetry of Sappho, who lived on the island of Lesbos about 630 B.C.  Fragments of her writing have been found preserved on papyrus.  As I read these words, I think of how we attempt to write in a connected form.  What is conveyed when our words are separated from each other? Is that how it is when we move in and out of friendship, adjustment that may lead to something new?

I am enamored with the following.  The brackets show there is something lost before and after and yet what we are left with is perfect.  My head clears with the image of  “barefoot thought,” my interpretation of what is left preserved.


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