Sunday, October 23, 2011

diptych




What lips my
lips have kissed, &
where, & why, I
have forgotten, &
what arms have lain
under my head
till morning; but the
rain is full of
ghosts tonight, that
tap & sigh upon
the glass & listen
for reply; & in my
heart there stirs a
quiet pain for un-
remembered lads
that not again will
turn to me at mid-
night with a cry.

Thus in the winter
stands a lonely tree,
nor knows what
birds have vanished
one by one, yet
know its boughs
more silent than
before: I cannot
say what loves have
come & gone; I only
know that summer
sang in me a little
while, that in me
sings no more.
is no parenthesis
& death i think

paragraph
for life's not a
back in my arms
laugh, leaning
each other: then
we are for

which says
eyelids' flutter
is less than your
ure of my brain
cry—the best gest-
all flowers. Don't
lady i swear by
than wisdom
are a better fate
approves, & kisses
my blood

world
Spring is in the
to be a fool while
kiss you; wholly
will never wholly
syntax of things
any attention to the
first who pays
since feeling is

1 comment:

Imogene Bitty said...

Real substance here. I feel the (death) and the brand new love/life.