Robert Penn Warren

Poetry

Mortal Limit

5.00(1 votes)

Poetry

True love

5.00(1 votes)

Poetry

Evening Hawk

4.98(260 votes)

Poetry

Paradox of Time

Be first to rate

Poetry

The bee knows, and the eel’s cold...

Be first to rate

Poetry

Tell Me a Story

Be first to rate

More

Waiting

5.00   (1 votes)

You will have to wait. Until it. Until The last owl hoot has quavered to a

 

Vibrant silence and you realize thre is no breathing Beside you, and dark curdles toward dawn. Until

 

Drouth breaks, too late to save the corn, But not too late for flood, and the dog-fox, stranded

 

On a sudden islet, barks in hysteria in the alder-brake.

 

Until the doctor enters the waiting room, and His expression betrays all, and you wish He'd take his God-damned hand off your shoulder. Until

 

The woman you have lived with all the years Says, without rancor, that life is the way life is, and she

 

Had never loved you, had believed the lie only for the sake of the children.

 

Until you become uncertain of French irregular verbs And by a strange coincidence begin to take Catholic instruction from Monsignor O'Malley, who chews a hangnail. Until

 

You realize, truly, that our Saviour died for us all, And as tears gather in your eyes, you burst out laughing,

 

For the joke is certainly on Him, considering What we are. Until

 

You pick the last alibi off, like a scab, and Admire the inwardness, as beautiful as inflamed flesh

 

Or summer sunrise. Until you

Remember, suprisingly, that common men have done good deeds. Until it

 

Grows on that, at least, God

Has allowed us the grandeur of certain utterances.

The PlovdivLit site is a creative product of "Plovdiv LIK" foundation and it`s object of copyright.
Use of hyperlinks to the site, editions, sections and specific texts in PlovdivLit is free.

© PlovdivLit 2020