Sunday, March 23, 2014

You Sang Them All Away

Once, my love, confronting every ghost,
You sang them all away; but now the space
Of dream and daylight vision bears the trace
Of revenants, and each one, furthermost
Or intimate within this constant host,
Wears the autumnal semblance of your face,
Or mimes the cirrus movements of your grace.
Now I am left with tremors diagnosed.

When we first met, a germinating peace
Took root within my anger and despair.
It seemed that calm would overgrow the strife
Long after my dead springtime: a release.
But how can songlike burgeoning compare
With silent echoes of your afterlife?

-- Saturday, March 22, 2014.

1 comment:

Mark Fuller Dillon said...

I'm not sure about this one. Dibrachs can add rhythmic variety within a line, but here, they end both the octave and the sestet, which makes both endings feel weak. Then again, weakness is the topic here, and so the lack of emphasis might seem appropriate. I dunno. Maybe.