Absences

 It's snowing this afternoon and there are no flowers.

There is only this sound of falling, quiet and remote,
Like the memory of scales descending the white keys
Of a childhood piano--outside the window, palms!
And the heavy head of the cereus, inclining,
Soon to let down its white or yellow-white.


Now, only these poor snow-flowers in a heap,
Like the memory of a white dress cast down .
 .
 .
 
So much has fallen.


 And I, who have listened for a step
All afternoon, hear it now, but already falling away,
Already in memory.
 And the terrible scales descending
On the silent piano; the snow; and the absent flowers abounding.

Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem |

Poems are below...