Poem for T.S.E.
Oh T.S. would you
could see this April—
this spring
with its shoots bourne
of brimming earth.
Those hollow men you spoke of,
long since dust,
provide a rich meal
for my Snapdragons,
my Foxglove,
my Daffodils.
I wonder...
would April remain
the cruelest month?
Labels:
Poetry
3 comments:
"those hollow men you spoke of, long since dust, provide a rich meal..."
Loving it, Kevin.
"I wonder would April remain the cruelest month..."
Just enough...just enough...I admire the restraint in these words...
Keep writing.
thanks Danielle. you're too kind.
kevin
Too True, but, even for Eliot, it rains in the end, no?
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