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Boon (to Harrison)
by Leonard M HawkesHe trespassed.
And though
The heavens wept
And cold stars
Ceased to shine,
She kept him there
In roaring silence
And the open shelter
Of her night.
And when at length
A gray light filtered
Hesitating through
The stolid green
Of spruce and fir,
He heard the voice,
Bared his face,
And searched his heart
For sun lit lies--
Her truth too harsh
To quicken his reality. 09/30/2001 Posted on 09/30/2001
Copyright © 2025 Leonard M Hawkes
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 11/18/02 at 02:18 AM The imagery in this poem is quite striking, the quiet colors and insinuation of light, you cast me into the spurce shadows looking for light. The mystery in the final couplet keeps me wandering and wondering... Beautiful poem Leonard. |
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