Kathleen Jessie Raine

(14 June 1908 – 6 July 2003 / London / England)

The End of Love


Now he is dead
How should I know
My true love's arms
From wind and snow?

No man I meet
In field or house
Though in the street
A hundred pass.

The hurrying dust
Has never a face,
No longer human
In man or woman.

Now he is gone
Why should I mourn
My true love more than mud,
than mud or stone?

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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