poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

Here at the height of the day night change
The color of the sky is uncertain,
The sky depending in which direction
One's eye strains, each of its swatches a strange 

Hue which dies too soon and which makes this hour
Linger in the mind transient as a life,
Whose names once known remain another
Posied-up portrait on our palette knife. 

Until even I wonder if one tint
Ever survives the harm of seeming unique
(Evening's intrigue, time's singularity.) 

Study for its trace, its placemap, I see
--Redundant as a stopsign in italic--
The face on which my profile leaves no print. 

Added: 20 Feb 2002 | Last Read: 12 Sep 2026 3:44 AM | Viewed: 4712 times

A PoetryNotes™ Analysis of Compact Dusk by Bill Knott, is Available!

A PoetryNotes™ eBook is available for this poem for delivery within 24 hours, and usually available within minutes during normal business hours.

ON SALE - only $29.95 19.95!

For more information...