second april ~~~~~   Leave a comment

Page Ten

 

 

                                    
and I, finder of the dying swan,
must carry away your leaving only in eyes and heart,
hands hanging empty of your wanted white weight.
I can’t return with sleeping bag and food,
to lie there close above you,
singing you away into the realm of force,
singing you away where I watch you fade,
so you die not alone.

 

and I, fnder of this dying swan,
will go back again tonight;
no food, no thing to sleep on,
but company, at least, if you’re still there.                                             
and no matter what, the singing of a song.     
the song sings good-bye,
says I wish you could stay,
sings love, and remorse that I can’t  bury you
and plant there on your swan-grave
snow-white roses.
swan-white roses snowing down the years
for you,
for me,
for songs and a swan and the last
last hours that we knew each other well.
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Posted April 2, 2011 by mishibone, braon, braonthree, sehnen in photo, poetry

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