It was born in perhaps the Holland Tunnel, And in New Jersey opened up its eyes, Discovered its hands in Pennsylvania and Later the night came. The moon burned brighter than the dreams of lechers -- Still, they made love halfway to Pittsburgh, Disturbing the passengers and sometimes themselves. Her laughter gamboled in the bus like kittens: He kissed with his cap on, maybe had no hair. I kept remembering them even beyond Chicago Where everyone discovered a personal direction. She went to Omaha; he went south; and I, Having nothing better, was thinking of chance -- Which has its mouth open in perpetual surprise -- And love. For even though she was a whore And he a poor devil wearing built-up heels, Still, love has light which like an early lamp Or Hesperus, that star, to the simplest object Lends a magnificent impersonal radiance, Human, impermanent and permanently good. 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...OLD FOLKS AT HOME by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER CENTENNIAL MEDITATION OF COLUMBIA by SIDNEY LANIER DIVINA COMMEDIA (INTRODUCTORY POEMS): 1 by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW FLAMMONDE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON PSALM 56 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ILLUSIONS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |