When The Fainting Robin Has Cooled In My Breast Poem by Rich Harney

When the fainting robin has cooled in my breast
I suppose I'll know something then,
Maybe you could say what you know of this, Lest
You and I look on together — till when
We hear some plaintive music in the west,
Neither in hushed contemplation
Will we have lost what will begin.

So friend,finger to finger, toe to toe
Let us drag the wild wind,
Ride the wild night battered and bloodied so
Into some new day forgotten of prose and pen,
Drink the fabled wine in heaps of cold red snow
Before we know something of
That old setting sun that won't come ‘round again.