A steady wind. A childhood that waits for us as daffodils shed their husks on a shore where no one has wept for years. There is another world, time enough for walks, for testimonies of wood in a cast-iron stove. A decrescendo. A wilderness on fire. Then rain. Finally snow with no one's footprints in it. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON LOOKING INTO GOLDING'S OVID by STEVE SCAFIDI JR. THE RAZOR-SELLER by JOHN WOLCOTT THE LAST LOOK O' HAME by HEW AINSLIE HINDOO FUNERAL SONG by EDWIN ARNOLD TO JOSEPH JOACHIM by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |