To Dorothy
by Marvin Bell
You are not beautiful, exactly.
You are beautiful, inexactly.
You let a weed grow by the mulberry
And a mulberry grow by the house.
So close, in the personal quiet
Of a windy night, it brushes the wall
And sweeps away the day till we sleep.
A child said it, and it seemed true:
“Things that are lost are all equal.”
But it isn’t true. If I lost you,
The air wouldn’t move, nor the tree grow.
Someone would pull the weed, my flower.
The quiet wouldn’t be yours. If I lost you,
I’d have to ask the grass to let me sleep.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Lover’s Gifts XL: A Message Came by Rabindranath Tagore
- Нина Воронель – Игарка
- Robert Burns: Fickle Fortune: Fragment
- Epitaph On An Army of Mercenaries poem – A. E. Housman
- Pace of Life by Pierre Reverdy
- Вера Павлова – Память, дырявый мешок
- Flowers of Sion: Sonnet 11 – The last and greatest herald by William Drummond
- Олег Бундур – Страх
- In Measures by Shaunna Harper
- In Memory Of Major Robert Gregory by William Butler Yeats
- I Saw His Round Mouth’s Crimson by Wilfred Owen
- Федор Сологуб – Слепой судьбе противореча
- Youth
- tomorrow is already past… by Steve Troyanovich
- English Poetry. Mark Akenside. The Pleasures of Imagination. Марк Эйкенсайд.
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).
