Home > Work > Littlefoot: A Poem
1 " What makes us leave what we love best?What is it inside us that keeps erasing itselfWhen we need it most,That sends us into uncertainty for its own sakeAnd holds us flush there until we begin to love itAnd have to begin again?What is it within our own lives we decline to liveWhenever we find it, making our days unendurable,And nights almost visionless?I still don't know yet, but I do it. "
― Charles Wright , Littlefoot: A Poem
2 " We've all led raucous lives, some of them inside, some of them out. But only the poem you leave behind is what's important. Everyone knows this. The voyage into the interior is all that matters, Whatever your ride. Sometimes I can't sit still for all the asininities I read. Give me the hummingbird, who has to eat sixty times His own weight a day just to stay alive. Now that's a life on the edge. "
3 " It may not be written in any book, but it is written—You can’t go back,you can’t repeat the unrepeatable. "
4 " We've all led raucous lives, some of them inside, some of them out.But only the poem you leave behind is what's important.Everyone knows this. "
5 " I’m starting to feel like an old man alone in a small boatIn a snowfall of blossoms,Only the south wind for company,Drifting downriver, the beautiful costumes of springApproaching me down the runway of all I’ve ever wished for.Voices from long ago floating across the water.How to account for my single obsession about the past?How to account for these blossoms as white as an autumn frost?Dust of the future baptizing our faithless foreheads.Alone in a small boat, released in a snowfall of blossoms. "
6 " When what you write about is what you see,what do you write about when it’s dark?from “32 "