With Tomorrow's Paper And Vinegar
She Polished The Glass In Falling Strokes
From The Roof's Top To The Floor's Bottom
Then Both Tripping Over His Old Work Boots
As She Looked Over The Scaffolded Hills
And All The Other Mansard Roofs
There Feeling It, Just Something
Until Serene Again Seeing The Heath
Below, His Ladder Fallen And Jerry
Cans Forgotten, Today Of All Days
Lucid, Finally She Turns Almost In Unison
With A Robin Too Old For The Season
Seeing It Falling To The Edge Of The Sill
Neck Broke And With A Final Twitch
Sending In Off Into His Wheelbarrow Below
Neither It Nor His Tools Have Been Moved In Many Months
CK
No comments:
Post a Comment