poetry archive

the rain was over, and the brilliant air
my son is dead and i am going blind
i saw the clouds among the hills
as a white candle
there by the window in the old house
the body may confine
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
for these white arms about my neck
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
afraid no more, i say
all my love for my sweet
she burst fierce wine
i love my life, but not too well
i fill this cup