There is only one
froth in froths unless riding
them in on waves

The deference of
obeisance when being obedient
to poetry’s curtsies

When snowdrops
close the slowest way
for night’s end

Antics huge or
small are still their
own escapades

To divide a third
from a second is a stanza
too far gone

Punctuation: not always,
like here, all about something

This morning’s
tempest has not been the
first, nor fast

[from an errata to Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s Poems on Various Subjects, with thanks to Adam Roberts at ‘Samuel Taylor Bloggeridge’]

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