We are almost all homely, beauty being rare as a round stone, and I was once homelier than thou, pocked teeth, long nose, plain geometry jaw, an unleavened matzo angling down the street, pigeon-toed strip of bespectacled lath. The swan's story is a sweet one, but it is a puffball beast. Robins, April-pretty, live on worms to become unnoticeable by June. But the hatched hawk, gall-eyed in clumsy fluff between feet and beak, lives on fought flesh - waiting for shoulders to lean upon the wind. I tell you this to keep comfort till your time. A man is held stronger by beauty he knows than any loveliness his eye can see. And don't mind Helen with Grecian ships, that is the male's most fervent legend, told by a wanderer totally blind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FLOWER GUIDANCE by ROBERT FROST THE SEMANTICS OF FLOWERS ON MEMORIAL DAY by BOB HICOK MY HAPPINESS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: HENRY BAKER, AT NEW YORK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A LETTER ON THE USE OF MACHINE GUNS AT WEDDINGS by KENNETH PATCHEN |