Poem for the Month of November, 2000

"The Pure Fury"
by Theodore Roethke


Stupor of knowledge lacking inwardness –
What book, O learned man, will set me right?
Once I read nothing through a fearful night,
For every meaning had grown meaningless.
Morning, I saw the world with second sight,
As if all things had died, and rose again.
I touched the stones, and they had my own skin.


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