Poetry: Ethics by Linda Pastan
In ethics class so many years ago our teacher asked this question every fall: If there were a fire in a museum,
In ethics class so many years ago our teacher asked this question every fall: If there were a fire in a museum,
I have eaten the plums that were in
In a field I am the absence of field.
Not because of victories I sing, having none,
Much Madness is divinest Sense–– To a discerning Eye–– Much Sense––the starkest Madness––