Sunday, July 11, 2010

“For the Anniversary of My Death,”

Every year without knowing it I have passed the day
When the last fires will wave to me
And the silence will set out
Tireless traveller
Like the beam of a lightless star
Then I will no longer
Find myself in life as in a strange garment
Surprised at the earth
And the love of one woman
And the shamelessness of men
As today writing after three days of rain
Hearing the wren sing and the falling cease
And bowing not knowing to what 

1 comment:

Lydia said...

What a poem, and what a concept! Almost to cry over.

Have I mentioned that I love the Goethe quote in your sidebar?