Tell yourself
as it gets cold and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
walking, hearing
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself —
inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon’s gaze in a valley of snow.
Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tune your bones play
as you keep going. And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,
tell yourself
in that final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love what you are.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- It Is No Spirit Who From Heaven Hath Flown by William Wordsworth
- This by Ralph Angel
- Where Have We All Gone by Mary Etta Metcalf
- What think You I take my Pen in Hand? by Walt Whitman
- Song—O Tibbie, I hae seen the day by Robert Burns
- Sonnet 03
- Damon The Mower poem – Andrew Marvell poems
- Battle-Scene From the Comic Operatic Fantasy The Seafarer by Sylvia Plath
- Adventures of King Robert the Bruce by William Topaz McGonagall
- To a friend by Vinko Kalinić
- Виталий Ревякин – Самарский край
- Better Be by Raj Napal
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Христианские мысли перед битвами
- Зинаида Александрова – Прятки
- On Journeys Through The States. by Walt Whitman
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
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