To Dorothy
by Marvin Bell
You are not beautiful, exactly.
You are beautiful, inexactly.
You let a weed grow by the mulberry
And a mulberry grow by the house.
So close, in the personal quiet
Of a windy night, it brushes the wall
And sweeps away the day till we sleep.
A child said it, and it seemed true:
“Things that are lost are all equal.”
But it isn’t true. If I lost you,
The air wouldn’t move, nor the tree grow.
Someone would pull the weed, my flower.
The quiet wouldn’t be yours. If I lost you,
I’d have to ask the grass to let me sleep.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Me Imperturbe. by Walt Whitman
- Robert Burns: First Six Verses Of The Ninetieth Psalm Versified, The :
- Elephant Dormitory by Russell Edson
- Homing by Satish Verma
- love.html
- Epigram—The Toad-eater by Robert Burns
- Going Back to School by Stephen Vincent Benet
- Any Night by Philip Levine
- John Bleäke At Hwome At Night by William Barnes
- The Puzzled Game-Birds by Thomas Hardy
- Sleep by Russell Edson
- Enigmatic by Satish Verma
- Стефан Малларме – Записка Уистлеру
- To Any Dead Officer by Siegfried Sassoon
- A woman’s desire by Oriada Dajko
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
