Unfolds the definite, When strange stars crumble Into kindred dust, unknowing. Now soft the breath of wind -- Two atoms of a myriad dust Commingle. And deathlessness reborn Makes of itself a turbulence. I am your Star. You are my Star. ... There is but One. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUMMER SHIRT SALE by CARL SANDBURG HOW THE CUMBERLAND WENT DOWN [MARCH 8, 1862] by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 10. TO THOMAS EDWARDS, ON ... POPE'S WORKS by MARK AKENSIDE FUNERAL by ETHEL SKIPTON BARRINGER THE SECOND BROTHER; AN UNFINISHED DRAMA by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE END OF THE WORLD by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON ON MR. FREDERICK PORTER'S ROOM OF PICTURES, 1930 by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |