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Poems

October 1995

Nothing

by Frederick Morgan

Nothing, and naked—
thus he confronted the day
mistrusting all motives
but sure of his way.

Released from the past,
he contained it within
as structure and bone
of the men he had been.

At ease in his choices,
knowing evil and good,
might he now bring to focus
what it was he understood?

For he understood something,
on his windy plateau,
that quickened his heartbeat
and made his eyes glow.


Frederick Morgan was the editor of The Hudson Review
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This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 14 October 1995, on page 35
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