The Hidden Life
For the poet Dana Gioia, upon his taking a public office, as chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts
Sometimes on evening walks you hear,
in whispers from old wells
and almost-words that rivers speak,
a quiet voice that tells
of small, secluded things. Like murmured
prayers from churchmen’s stalls
or what the marbled echoes say,
it rises, then it falls.
And you may follow when it calls
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