previous post reminded me of this old hg poem:
OLD SONG
"I want to stay -"
he cries, the willows
rattle and play and the voice
is carried far away downstream.
Downstream, in autumn,
the bums are coughing, and smoke
for the wisps that rise
and cool; they stay awhile.
They lie and cough,
the willows play, the sun
is red - rattle rattle
go away, go away.
The story is for winter
to forget, when woods are dark
and snow is lightest in the darkness
- and that light is deep.
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