for the Unger-Hamiltons
That word holds itself
on tongue-tip;
like thunder to the prongs
of lightning, or a drop
to leaf-end in returning sunshine.
Then something distracts,
refracts. And the across down
is elsewhere. Just as you have forgotten
that you are remembering
is when the solution begins.
Seamus Hogan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crossword/
