(Poem #91)Beatrix is Three At the top of the stairs I ask for her hand. O.K. She gives it to me. How her fist fits my palm, A bunch of consolation. We take our time Down the steep carpetway As I wish silently That the stairs were endless. |
(SO WE BEAT ON, BOATS AGAINST THE CURRENT, BORNE BACK CEASELESSLY INTO THE PAST)
(Poem #91)Beatrix is Three At the top of the stairs I ask for her hand. O.K. She gives it to me. How her fist fits my palm, A bunch of consolation. We take our time Down the steep carpetway As I wish silently That the stairs were endless. |
0 comments: - or Leave a comment
Post a Comment