... HER hair like shredded brass Is piled in a cool mass; Her face is cut from stone The warmth it will not own Awhile unguarded glows In her deep eyes' repose. Hands whose touch has stilled The strong and somber-willed Lie curving, jewel-free, Lightly upon her knee. She smiles, whose thoughts are far... I know not where they are. What passionate word can stir The cold, cold heart of her? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE FIRE IN THE WOODS by HAYDEN CARRUTH MARIA CALLAS, THE WOMAN BEHIND THE LEGEND* by MADELINE DEFREES SYNOPSIS OF A FAILED POEM by JAMES GALVIN ABOVE AND WITHIN by DAVID IGNATOW BRIGHTNESS AS A POIGNANT LIGHT by DAVID IGNATOW |