De Votre Bonheur Il Ne Reste Que Vos Photos Sipsce… Poem by Archibald MacLeish

De Votre Bonheur Il Ne Reste Que Vos Photos Sipsce…

Rating: 2.7


And the rain since
And I have not heard
Leaf at the pane all winter
Nor a bird's wing beating as that was
I have not seen
All year your leaning face again
Since I have never wakened but that smell
Of wet pine bark was in the room.

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