Twenty-Four Hokku On A Modern Theme poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry

I

Again the larkspur,

Heavenly blue in my garden.

They, at least, unchanged.

II

How have I hurt you?

You look at me with pale eyes,

But these are my tears.

III

Morning and evening–

Yet for us once long ago

Was no division.

IV

I hear many words.

Set an hour when I may come

Or remain silent.

V

In the ghostly dawn

I write new words for your ears–

Even now you sleep.

VI

This then is morning.

Have you no comfort for me

Cold-colored flowers?

VII

My eyes are weary

Following you everywhere.

Short, oh short, the days!

VIII

When the flower falls

The leaf is no more cherished.

Every day I fear.

IX

Even when you smile

Sorrow is behind your eyes.

Pity me, therefore.

X

Laugh–it is nothing.

To others you may seem gay,

I watch with grieved eyes.

XI

Take it, this white rose.

Stems of roses do not bleed;

Your fingers are safe.

XII

As a river-wind

Hurling clouds at a bright moon,

So am I to you.

XIII

Watching the iris,

The faint and fragile petals–

How am I worthy?

XIV

Down a red river

I drift in a broken skiff.

Are you then so brave?

XV

Night lies beside me

Chaste and cold as a sharp sword.

It and I alone.

XVI

Last night it rained.

Now, in the desolate dawn,

Crying of blue jays.

XVII

Foolish so to grieve,

Autumn has its colored leaves–

But before they turn?

XVIII

Afterwards I think:

Poppies bloom when it thunders.

Is this not enough?

XIX

Love is a game–yes?

I think it is a drowning:

Black willows and stars.

XX

When the aster fades

The creeper flaunts in crimson.

Always another!

XXI

Turning from the page,

Blind with a night of labor,

I hear morning crows.

XXII

A cloud of lilies,

Or else you walk before me.

Who could see clearly?

XXIII

Sweet smell of wet flowers

Over an evening garden.

Your portrait, perhaps?

XXIV

Staying in my room,

I thought of the new Spring leaves.

That day was happy.