I came across this poem by Ezra Pound in a British newspaper when I’d first moved to London at the age of 16. These few lines and the images they evoke made an indelible impression upon me. Not remembering who it was by, I always remembered the poem and its content, and today I came across it again.
As it turns out I had remembered it, and word perfect at that. Here it is:
And the days are not full enough
And the nights are not full enough
And life slips by
Like a field mouse
Not shaking the grass
– Ezra Pound (1885-1972)