Thy Breath Remains
—A Sonnet of Departing Eyes—
When thou wert gone, the populous world rang,
yet all its clamour fell beyond my ear;
the brazen noon beneath its burden sang,
while silence gathered where thou wert not near.
When I praised thy laughter, flowers raised their flame
And bent towards the wind, enquiring of thy name;
their petals searched the road thy footsteps crossed,
as though each bloom could read the shape of loss.
Then once thou turnedst back, and from my breast
my breath withdrew before thy departing eyes;
again thou lookedst—and the earth, possessed,
seemed tinder strewn beneath the waiting skies.
I would have burned the world to make thee stay—
but it remained the world, and thou wert away.
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