IX: Bird (Librarian V)#
To say what’s meant without the word,
Oh poetry, relent wherein
I yield to you all things deferred,
In baptism, repent my sin.
I found a bird, that sings so soft,
Her song aloft in heart by choice.
To field of hers I pass so oft
To sit in grass and drink her voice.
With chirping dive she plunged so deep
And pierced the weary veil that hides
The ghosts of dreams that haunt my sleep;
She sang such hopeful lullabies.
Oh bird, oh bird, with glee you sing,
If you could know the depths of dark
That shadows cast in offering,
Would song still burst from breast in lark?
April 2025
Date |
Publication |
Status |
|---|---|---|
April 7, 2025 |
Paris Review |
Pending |