Monday, September 19, 2011

A Dream of Heaven and Hell

A stone field bounded by a stone fence,
guarded by hemlock and oak, as hard as when
a crocus shoot grown flowery at the tip
betrays the time as a pause between snow.
So much depends on that first urge to grow:
my daughter wobbling as if she's on a ship,
a first step taken toward heaven,
a world in which children bury parents.


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