It’s a sort of spectrum. At one end – the safe end – there’s persona (Robert Browning – ‘My Last Duchess’).
There are poems that won’t let me in. Not enough room.
The “first fine careless rapture” is startlingly loud just now. And it’s not the first.
'Un poème n'est jamais fini, seulement abandonné. A poem is never finished, only abandoned.' Paul Valéry
Whose bicentenary was on 7th May this very year?