poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

One by one they appear in
the darkness: a few friends, and
a few with historical 
names.  How late they start to shine!
but before they fade they stand
perfectly embodied, all

the past lapping them like a 
cloak of chaos.  They were men
who, I thought, lived only to
renew the wasteful force they
spent with each hot convulsion.
They remind me, distant now.

True, they are not at rest yet,
but now they are indeed
apart, winnowed from failures,
they withdraw to an orbit
and turn with disinterested 
hard energy, like the stars.


Submitted by Andrew Mayers

Added: 21 Jul 2002 | Last Read: 21 Aug 2008 5:43 AM | Viewed: 4668 times

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