In which I participate in David Abrams’s “Sunday Sentence” project, sharing the best sentence I’ve read during the past week, “out of context and without commentary.”
Wherever you look, the portents
bear the same burden: the lawns
will mold under the deep drifts,
the greens will thirst to death
in their dry dirt—are brown
already with a chill foresight;
look at the puffy, bundled spruce.
Source: “Endsong” by Robley Wilson (1930-2018), published on the inside cover of the November 2018 issue of Poetry magazine; previously published in the magazine in October 1981.
