touched

As I was travelling on the train last week, whilst the clouds came down and touched the trees, I read a poem
From "Book of Hours" by Kevin Young in Poetry, november 2007

this is a little slice of what pleased me:


Let us go
each, into the valley—

turn ourselves
& our hairshirts

inside out, let the world
itch—for once—



if you would like to read it all, and I do recommend it click here