Poetry Archives

How should I know?  The enormous wheels of will
 Drove me cold-eyed on tired and sleepless feet.
Night was void arms and you a phantom still,
 And day your far light swaying down the street.
As never fool for love, I starved for you;
 My throat was dry and my eyes hot to see.
Your mouth so lying was most heaven in view,
 And your remembered smell most agony.

Love wakens love!  I felt your hot wrist shiver
 And suddenly the mad victory I planned
  Flashed real, in your burning bending head. . . .
My conqueror’s blood was cool as a deep river
 In shadow; and my heart beneath your hand
  Quieter than a dead man on a bed.