Yvor Winters

(1900 - 1968 / United States)

Dark Spring - Poem by Yvor Winters

My mother
Foresaw deaths
And walked among
Withe red rose,
The earthy blossoms.

My very breath
In nights of study,
And page by page
I came on spring.

The rats run on the roof,
These words come hard---
Sadder than cockcrow
In a dreamless, earthen sleep.
The Christ, eternal
In the scented cold; my love,
Her hand on the sill
White, as if out of earth;
And spring, the sleep of the dead.

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Read poems about / on: spring, sleep, rose, mother, dark, love, running

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

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