every breath a bead in an endless strand
"I'm not sure about all this, but I'm starting to get the hang of it."
Sonnet for the Son I Never Had
LITTLE GIDDING (No. 4 of 'Four Quartets') T.S....
The Wasteland -- T.S. Eliot <!-- end head...
"Cold Poem"Cold now.Close to the edge. Almostunbea...
About.com Robert PinskyRobert Pinsky’s The Sounds ...
: "A PRAYER FOR OLD AGEA PRAYER FOR OLD AGEGOD gua...
Shred the layered Veils
and Burn for heat these garments
which clothed us Summer long
now Shed their Golden splendor;
go Naked towards the Snow!
Till under these Pale stalks
in Clawed and furrowed Earth;
Bury life's remains with snow:
our gifts to winter's frozen heart.
Awaiting springtime's golden glow.
under this cold sky's arc
Effort rarely serves great Virtue;
One person's Work feeds many:
Starlings descend on the field.
Young ones shirk the Plow.
A paltry Rag-and-stick
man Wards off the Birds.
This season's children must till
Grandmother's garden. Save the wine;
Break bread in new Jerusalem.