Here's one from Christian Wiman, in his book My Bright Abyss:
Varieties
of quietI quote
from a poet
no one knows.
And no one
knows
me too
if by chance
happening
here
some far year
when I am
not:
it matters
I tell you
it matters
the matter
one mind
collects,
one memory
protects
when memory's
kin
to that wordless
feeling
words
open in your head:
varieties
of quietvarieties
of quietThere are many
friend
as many
as the dead.
I like this Christian Wiman poem, but not so much because of the phrase that captured his attention ("varieties of quiet"). What captured my attention was his need to preserve in written form what had impressed him: Though he says, "no one knows me too," even so, "It matters I tell you/ it matters the matter/ one mind collects/ one memory protects."
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