"...her beloved taking down one by one each garment like a harvest of odd ghosts given up."
More Perihelion:
BobSward's Writer's Friendship Series
A quick list to poets featured in this issue:
That Old Useful Trouble of the Rain
So deluvian in her this feeling.
She was merely closing a window
and caught sight of him, beloved,
taking down clothes from their line.
A bad weather is miles coming: announces
like a circus with flash and groan.
And it's old this feeling, the inconsolable,
that took den in her way ago; it is come up
like the hounding out of foxes; it kneels
and hymns at what she watches: her beloved
taking down one by one each garment
like a harvest of odd ghosts given up.
Wind, in every room we are none more than our
selves and masters. O, white hazard of wind,
jive, as you are always jiving
your one low lyric for home.
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