Poetry Archives

At last Max spoke, “Dear Heart, this night is ours,
To watch it pale, together, into dawn,
Pressing our souls apart like opening flowers
Until our lives, through quivering bodies drawn,
Are mingled and confounded.  Then, far spent,
Our eyes will close to undisturbéd rest.
For that desired thing I leave you now.
To pinnacle this day’s accomplishment,
By telling Grootver that a bootless quest
Is his, and that his schemes have met a knock-down blow.”