Emlyn Wentwhistle Poems
- Snow I'm watching snow melt on trees from the window of a ...
- Self Sacrifice- W B Yeats To M... When all, my love, ...
- Idaho Up in Idaho night's a starched taut canopy all ...
- Gravity Imagine if we could avoid in words, she said, ...
- Pro Creation No, not my amatory indiscretions But the crumbs...
- Maybe In New England Maybe in New England in the Fall with ...
- A Living To make a living I hang out incommunicado in a ...
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Comments about Emlyn Wentwhistle
I'm watching snow melt on trees
from the window of a room
harbouring the bones
of our beligerent silence.
The weather forecast speaks
with its usual retrospective certainty.
A Grande Armee
of bristling spring shoots
cruelly halted in its tracks.
Now, in penitential haste,
snow falls to earth in clumps
I'm waiting for that thaw
never should have fallen.