a good poem

[thisnewday]

 referring again to hoagland's "color of the sky," i'd like to reproduce the whole thing here. but that seems a little unseemly and is probably against the rules. so i'll settle for another stanza from somewhere in the middle and commend the rest to your perusal, wherever you may find it.   

                                                                           What I thought was an end turned out to be a middle 
                                                                           What I thought was a brick wall turned out to be a tunnel. 
                                                                           What I thought was an injustice 
                                                                           turned out to be a color of the sky.

the odd thing is that i feel so totally opposite of the feelings these lines express. maybe the thing that feels right about it is simply that it's such a good poem. and maybe what feels good is that i still seem to know that...