IF you, that have grown old, were the first dead,
Neither catalpa tree nor scented lime
Should hear my living feet, nor would I tread
Where we wrought that shall break the teeth of Time.
Let the new faces play what tricks they will
In the old rooms; night can outbalance day,
Our shadows rove the garden gravel still,
The living seem more shadowy than they.
Leave a guest comment (subject to review)
Comments
-
My grandmother used to always say to me...Do not be afraid of spirits for it is not the dead you have to have...it is the living. This piece seems so very closely aligned to that kind of thinking. She was right...I have yet to harmed by anyone who has already died, but I have been harmed plenty by the "shadowy" living creatures who live and breathe.
UB
-
A second read of this piece really brings new thoughts,
and yes, many of those still alive are certainly far more shadowy than you now find yourself.
Each line of this poem could so easily start a whole new poem.
Andrew
Adding your comment:
