LARKSPUR (for Grey)
LARKSPUR
(for Grey)
He holds the words in his hand.
Letter by letter he forms
them into coherent language,
readable sentences,
paragraphs and
pages.
He taps the lead images
gently with his mallet
giving them exact space and
reason.
He stands over them
looking down
with loving eye
measuring, by vision,
he next line…
imagining the entire page.
His hands smooth the paper.
he knows the texture
the smell…
he knows because
it is his art
his expertise
his life.
It is there, at the press,
where he creates the words of a lifetime,
the books we cherish
the relics of literature.
He holds the words in his hands and t
the hope of reason
for all the world to read.
Tony Sexton
3 thoughts on "LARKSPUR (for Grey)"
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A lovely poem. I just met Grey and saw Larkspur Press last week. It was such a treat.
One of my fondest wishes is that someday I will write something good enough to be printed by that master and his ancient press.
I agree with both of you. He is such a humble man.