The light burnt briefly
but now has gone.
What should I do,
my dark-haired darling,
whom I could wish to wrong
by exulting beyond the beauty of snow
or the wavering pallor of swans?
Ah, now, my treasuring queen,
what can I do
with a pointless dream?
“Drown it! Drown it!”
a voice replied.
“Why can’t you play
“with such dark-haired music
“in more than a sheltering way?
“What right have you
“to have made of me
“an icon-beauty, a base of lead,
“simply because your mind makes mad
“the warmth I have been in bed?”
(from “”Love” Poems For Kathy / Green. Laced. Leaves”)
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