Page 25

By Jack Joseph Smith

The grace it takes Without bow we like Troubble of any kind Our life long turned out it is as it We never took music to our ears, or got to be jealous of its strings Just the sight of, the ear is now Would dull us to forgetfullness Visions are trouble All sight ahead of oneself Is as incomplete As the donkey before the cart But can you stAy alone and go across time Letting life away to think When loss is your own kind Tamper yes, when gone to scent A yield that's sorry said has no fold

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

This page treats grace, music, sight, and loss as things that fail to arrive cleanly, leaving the speaker in a state of incompletion.

The poem is revised and unstable, but its emotional direction is clear. It keeps asking how one keeps moving when perception itself becomes a burden.

Claude

The grace it takes. A poem refusing music as a kind of surrender. Never taking music to our ears, never getting jealous of its strings. Visions are trouble, the donkey before the cart as a figure of incomplete sight. The question, can you stay alone and go across time. A yield that is sorry said has no fold. Discipline as a private virtue.