Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.
Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.
For it was in my heart that you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,
—They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.
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Comments
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Beautiful
Simply beautiful. I love it! -
Thanks for sharing your comments MW. This poem is very moving and in some ways remind me of Neruda's poetry. Very touching way to remember someone. The first two lines are so arresting. The mundane become more precious in the realm of memory.
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Beautiful
I have always loved this poem. My father found this anthology of poetry in the dumpster in the back of a thrift store, and this poem I believe was on the first page. This was my first introduction to old poetry and that was over ten years ago when I was a teen. I love this poem so much!
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