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I am ready, like Basho — to turn away
from beauty today as he once refused to
consider Mt Fuji, stark in the distance,
one more time — not to be bothered by
the ineluctable. A dreariness rests inside
I can’t waken and send packing. There’s
been too much brilliance of late, far too
many exquisite things lingering from
the weekend trip to an art exhibition
of a friend’s life’s work filling walls of
an entire museum; lovely conversation
at dinner with lovely people, and inane
wandering on Saturday morning roads
leading to John Ringling’s Palace of Art.
There — an artillery barrage of humanly
impossible, fully-realized virtuosity con-
tained as if it were all in a butterfly house
filled with lovely appendages, glorious
raiment, tropical fingers, and divine
envisagements kept inside heavy glass
doors — two sets of them — for entry and
departure. And crossing a blue chasm on
the Skyway Bridge above the vast Bay
a medieval Spaniard would have to die
to behold. At the summit: golden rays
shining — gilding the distance through
radiant bands—keeping us unwittingly
aloft as we drove on toward Elysium.
Where does one go from there? The
ordinary pasture disappears in haze this
hour, at least comprehensible—simplified
as Basho would speak of the “Eight Views
of Lake Omi, in a single poem, saying:
mist hid seven when I heard Mii-dera’s bell.
And True to such moment, a calf’s complaint
issues sudden, invisible, receiving no answer
and a small ruin takes place — something
restored when I close my eyes.
~~~~
Copyright 2025 Sean Sexton

Sean Sexton was born and raised on his family’s Treasure Hammock Ranch and divides his time between writing, painting, and managing a 700-acre cow-calf and seed stock operation. He is author of Blood Writing: Poems (Anhinga Press); May Darkness Restore: Poems and Portals: Poems (Press 53).
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Dear Sean, I hope my comment won’t be the one that outwhelms but I do have to add my praise to your burdens. Merry Christmas to all of you, with love…. Lola
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Thankyou Lola! Means the world to me!
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All these lovely comments—I feel I’ve entered Elysium! Thankyou all for your kindnesses. Our Daughter and her family (2 granddaughters!) just arrived for two weeks and soon our other 3 grandchildren will be here to see one another, so I’m having one fine day. Our lives are suddenly populated with children and cow-dog puppies.
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Enjoy the holiday, Sean!
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And you as well Michael!
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“The/ ordinary pasture. . . ” This poem descends magnificently to Earth.
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Yes!
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How did I become so lucky to find Vox Populi—the poems, the people, dark or light words, a way to say it’s worth getting up another morning?
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For sure. I’m with you, Barbara.
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Oh, yes. Thank you for being among us, Barb!
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Sean is a wonder. We’re always amazed by his poems . . . and, in case you don’t know, he is reader of poems extraordinaire.
What strikes me in this poem is when he brings us back to earth with
“…send packing.” Then, his reference to Ringling’s carnival palace and a finally, a bawling calf who’s lost its mother.
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Thanks, HC!
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“and a small ruin takes place — something
restored when I close my eyes.”
There it is again, Sean’s deep wisdom, Sean’s heart who catches the smallest image, or a few words, a gladness, the beginning of a thought maybe, and, like some of those clouds one watches take on the most expansive, unexpected and “ineluctable” ever-changing shapes, billows with such generous wisdom. Sometimes, too, I feel his poetry is the voice that many of us might have quieted in ourselves, or keep for ourselves, but that Sean continues using to sing for us, most bravely. He’s a true poet. A true, wise and generous poet.
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Yes, he is.
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Yes, too much beauty can become a burden too, and a calf’s complaint the simple and practical counterpoint. This poem reminded me to seek balance. Another extraordinary Sean poem.
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He is extraordinary.
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This poem has left me utterly speechless. We’re all so busy trying to turn toward beauty, trying to find it, trying to bathe in it, we’ve perhaps forgotten how to truly honor it. I want the innocence back that seems to allow Sean, in his great wisdom, to see it. Bravo.
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This poem has left me utterly speechless. We’re all so busy trying to turn toward beauty, trying to find it, trying to bathe in it, we’ve perhaps forgotten how to truly honor it. I want the innocence back that seems to allow Sean, in his great wisdom, to see it. Bravo.
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This poem has left me utterly speechless. We’re all so busy trying to turn toward beauty, trying to find it, trying to bathe in it, we’ve perhaps forgotten how to truly honor it. I want the innocence back that seems to allow Sean, in his great wisdom, to see it. Bravo.
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I agree. There is a charming innocence in Sean’s vision.
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What a beautiful poem! I’ve read it twice — so far.
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Yes, there is a lot to admire in these poems!
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lovely poem.
Sean’s friend was lucky. Few artists and writers are privileged that way.
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I agree, John!
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