Luther’s Narrow Roadby Ron Starr
The Holy Scripture is melting and the patron is flooded with love.
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An offense has settled on a bar Christ autumn evening.
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The old letter— a full jumps in, sound of a title.
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Near the preacher a wish blooms— almost no one sees.
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Harvest moon— the love rises almost to my Truth.
From A Map by a Dim Lamp, Seattle: Ravenna Press, 2006, pages 27–28. A note in the book says that the author says that this sequence “uses some of Bashō’s haiku as templates into which I’ve inserted words from one of Luther’s essays.” See also “Issa on the Pequod.”
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