Chard deNiord Pomegranate I didn't send you the pomegranate to write about, but to eat. It is from this world where every seed counts for a day of life. William Sheldon When he said he wanted to write poetry, they separated him from the others handing him two sticks, telling him to beat the staves together, metrically, when he walked so that others, hearing his approach, could avoid his shadow. They tied a broom to his waist to clean the ground of his steps. They told him these things were metaphorical, that if he hoped to be a poet, he should understand that. They said the penalty for disobedience was death, for him, and maybe even others like him, metaphorically speaking.
Prairie Schooner – University of Nebraska Press
Published: May 11, 2008