Before the boats return from dry
dock’s winter-long sabbatical
the harbor soaks up early sun
without a passing sail of care
filling primeval emptiness
with deep subconscious images:
blue water, waves, white-caps, a floating bird,
and unseen creatures named without one word.
FRESH POSSIBILITIES
-
Today we will look at a seasonal poem by A. E. Housman, taking it verse by
verse. XVI — SPRING MORNING Star and coronal and bellApril underfoot
renews,And ...
2 hours ago

No comments:
Post a Comment