We open our mouths and the seasons change, screech owls lifting mice into the sky those starless hours when schools of fish are darting under windows made of ice. Oh Christ in the chords of an old harmonica held up to a child's mouth, a solemn hymn whose words we dare not sing. 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...THE HILL ABOVE THE MINE by MALCOLM COWLEY LITTLE BOATIE'; A SLUMBER SONG FOR THE FISHERMAN'S CHILD by HENRY VAN DYKE LOVE'S BLINDNESS by ALFRED AUSTIN LITTLE JOHN AND THE RED FRIAR; A LAY OF SHERWOOD by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN ROMAIOS by WILLAM GAY BALLANTINE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 103. WRITTEN AT FLORENCE: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |