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In the middle of the road of our life
I wandered upon a dark wood a gloomy wood
a dark wood within a darksome wood
a gloomy wood a wood so drear
a forest dark a darkling wood within
wood obscure gloomy wood
darksome wood a darkling
wood a forest dark and deep
a dark wood through a night-dark
wood within a darksome wood
forest dark shadowy wood
darksome wood dusky wood
a forest in darkness
darksome wood gloomy wood
a darkling wood astray
dark wood dark forest
gloom-dark wood within
dark wood dark wood dark wood
a dark wood unfathomable
dark wood dark woods wood so dark
within a shadowed forest
a great forest bewildered inside
dark wood in a dark wood
wood in this dark wood
dark woods in darkened forests
dark wood dark wood dark
wood sunless wood in a dark forest
dense cage of leaf, tree, and twig
that cut through our way like a knife
and we, we hardly knew the difference.
Tomás Q. Morín is the author of the forthcoming poetry collection Machete and memoir Let Me Count the Ways. He translated Pablo Neruda’s The Heights of Macchu Picchu and with Mari L’Esperance coedited Coming Close: Forty Essays on Philip Levine. He teaches at Rice University and Vermont College of Fine Arts.
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