It's never wise to forget that we're at war.
Was it to peace the raven cried, "Nevermore!"?
Every wrong calls for reconciliation,
or Time erase us as it erases them.
The way I know already is to fade out,
experience unpicked - fish-flesh on a shore;
foam-flecks speckle pebbles of a grey redoubt;
meaning lost then never has a bearing more.
Of the two hard paths I'm halfway down the last;
and since, Sweet , there is no word from you, the sign
must be another nod of silence. That's fine.
These things I review within only one head
are hardly quorate and tangled in strange past.
Better to pretend each other with the dead.
..................
Written in hendecasyllables - 11 syllables a line.
YOU ARE READING
Bare Shouldered
Поэзия"The difference of high Sensations with and without knowledge appears to me this - in the latter case we are falling continually ten thousand fathoms deep and being blown up again without wings and with all [the] horror of a bare shouldered Creature...
