Wednesday, May 14, 2014


This is not the poem I meant to write today
Other words stood here telling a story
About Melancthon the reformer who,
I have read and see no reason to doubt,
Was unaware that he had died. (The dead,
Touched by his good nature, lacked the heart
To tell him). He will not hold it against me
That I have typed over what I wrote. The sky
Is too pale right now, too gray, too unseeing;
He might vanish in its unyielding light.

No comments:

Post a Comment