Poetry Tuesday: Reconciliation


WORD over all, beautiful as the sky,
Beautiful that war and all its deeds of carnage, must in time be utterly lost,
That the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again, and ever again, this soil’d world;
For my enemy is dead, a man divine as myself is dead.
I look where he lies, white-faced and still, in the coffin—I draw near,
Bend down, and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the coffin.



Tell me what you think I need to know. . .

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s